King Of Marion

When I was a junior in high school, the principal (who had a couple of kids who were in high school, too) would sometimes have a sort of open house thing on Friday nights after a home football game. There would be snacks and Pictionary and things like that. All very straightforward and innocent, but fun. I suppose he thought it would keep a few kids from going out drinking and screwing, and he was probably right. I went a few times and enjoyed myself.

One Friday night after a football game I went riding around with my friends Jon and Edwin. It was a stylish ride, too, because on that night Edwin had borrowed his dad's great big van. Not a minivan, but a full sized van with captain's chairs and a booming stereo and all that. It was known as The Party Van.

Sadly, the party wasn't to be had that night. I specifically remember us parking in front of the Walgreen's in West Memphis, trying to snag someone that a) was of age, and b) would buy us something to drink. We tried. Well, Ed and Jon tried. I didn't know anyone. Eventually, though, we gave up and decided to go to the thing at the principal's house.

We got there, and everyone was hanging out in the kitchen, yapping and drinking Coke and horking down Poncho's dip. It was a good scene, and totally parent-acceptable, too. Out late on a Friday night, hanging with a bunch of friends, at the principal's house. No one could criticize that!

Now, for some reason I wasn't really feeling it that night. I kind of think I was pining over some girl, but this is going on twenty-five years ago. I can't really remember. But I know I was kind of hanging back and being quiet. Who knows why? Teenagers are moody bitches.

Also at the gathering was this other guy - whom we'll call Jim. Jim was a year older than me, like Jon and Ed. I didn 't really have an opinion about Jim. I didn't know him and didn't hang out with him. He was just another big lug. The gossip of the day said that Jim had quite a crush on one of the principal's daughters.

(Also: I've seen Jim a couple of times in last few years. He looks exactly like one of the cops Ralph Steadman drew for Hunter Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas [see illustration, right]. This delights me more than I can say. Sadly, no one else I bring it up with gets the reference.)

Anyway, Jim pulls me aside.

"Y'all have got a lot of nerve, coming in here drunk."

What to say? I hadn't had anything to drink all night. Neither had Jon nor Ed. We'd certainly wanted something, and Jon and Ed showing up at a semi-official school function after a few drinks would have been absolutely par for the course. But it didn't happen.

My first response, of course, was shut your gob and screw off, you don't know what you're talking about. But Jim was not only a big guy, he was a big guy with a crush on a girl. No doubt, he thought it might impress her to bust someone for drinking. And he might get a commendation from her dad!

I knew even then, as a teenager, that there was no chance in trying to talk sense to a teenager. I just shook my head and walked away. Let him try and prove it. Which he couldn't do.

The evening continued without incident.