The Last Wave
I’m about to share a story that had a profound impact on my life. After you read it, you’ll think I’m a bit dramatic – but it scarred me deeply. Before I brave the story – I’ll give you some context: I have older brothers who, when I was younger, quickly realized that the adorable little sister was the best wingman. I would wave at girls who reminded Barbie, approach women in stores and say, “You’re pretty, date my brother.” I don’t know if I ever got my brothers laid, but I felt like I was doing something good. Like I was helping society one date at a time.
There were two Wingman episodes that stuck out in my memory. One for my brother was a bit of a playboy and the other for my brother who was more of a rebel.
One afternoon, I was at the bank with my mom. Our teller was pretty and I told her she should date my brother (the Playboy). I’m afraid to tell you and I definitely don’t remember the exact exchange, but she was my brother’s (the rebel’s) best friend’s girlfriend (!) and she knew the playboy’s reputation. She laughed and laughed.
To be fair, she was out of my brother’s best friend’s league.
The next story led to the end of my wave career. This is a profound moment. The core memory that still leaves me shaking. This story takes place in the family car. My brother (the rebel) and me in the backseat, my dad is driving, and mom is in the passenger seat… we’re going to a fair or something. My brother sees a pretty girl and I take my position to wave on behalf of my brother. She looks and smiles and as we pass, I continue to wave.
I hear someone say “Uh oh” and “Haha Kim”… then I hear the loud engine of a matte cream-colored car that’s pitted with rust speed to catch up to us. The car is on my right and I see the father, rocking a dirty white tank top, sunglasses, a smirk, and a balding mullet. The mother in the passenger seat with her poodle perm capturing the Roseanne Barr aesthetic popular in the 90s, and hanging out of the backseat windows. Read that again: hanging out of the backseat windows… On either side… two red-headed (mullet), chubby twin boys waving frantically at me.
I was terrified. Immediately humiliated and scared that they would kidnap me and make me marry them. (I was young – probably 7-9 ish). My brother joked that they were going to the fair and I could kiss them there. Terror kept creeping in. I remember clutching my mother the entire time, looking around, and scanning the crowds. After a few hours we left and I never saw those boys again. I still shudder when I think of them.
Anyways, that was the last time I waved at a girl to help my brother get a date.
Hopefully you enjoyed this little trip down memory lane!
Xo love kim