One of the Boys

The neighborhood I grew up in had a lot of kids in it so there was always something to do and always someone to hang out with. Our street, Alice Place, had several houses with kids from my elementary school. The numbers were pretty evenly split between boys and girls and when we were very young, the whole group of us played together. As we got a little older, the girls and boys started spending less and less time together until the only time we saw one another was the walk to and from school.

I spent a lot of time with the girls in my neighborhood playing with dolls, dressing up and listening to a lot of Madonna. And I always had fun doing those things but every summer when the weather was nice I wanted to be outside. The girls would be outside if we were at the pool or having a picnic but that was about it. The summer after 6th grade was the big turning point - I didn't just want to play dress up and lay by the pool with the girls anymore; I wanted to ride my bike and play baseball with the boys. We lived a few blocks from a huge park and one day I hopped on my pink and purple Huffy to join the boys as they headed out for a ride at the park. It was made quite clear to me that I wasn't invited and I still remember them riding off while I stood next to my bike, kicking pebbles with my pink and purple 'Roos. Later that summer I tried to join the boys for some baseball and was again told I wasn't wanted. I cried. Someone's mother saw what happened and made the boys let me play. None of the boys were happy about my joining the game and made comments the whole time just to let me know how unhappy they were. Near the end of the game, the kid playing first had to go home so the boys put me in. The first hit popped up and hit me right in the mouth. I somehow managed to bobble the ball off of my face and caught it in my glove. I immediately bent over and put my face in my glove, on top of the ball, where I prepared to cry my eyes out.

"Great. Now she's gonna cry like a baby and we're gonna get in trouble 'cause the girl got hurt," one of the more sensitive boys noted.

The tears had already welled up in my eyes and I could feel my lips swelling up but the second I heard that, I immediately stopped. I knew if I cried they'd never let me play again. But I was also angry at Captain Sensitive's comment so I channeled all the anger to my right arm and threw the ball at him as hard as I could. It was, admittedly, a cheap shot since he'd already turned around to walk away and it hit him rather hard right in the middle of his back. He let out a scream as his arms jerked back from the pain.

"Great. Now he's gonna cry like a baby and we're gonna get in trouble 'cause the GIRL got hurt," I yelled through my fat lips.

The rest of the boys laughed and I think between the fact that I caught the ball, managed to keep from crying and threw out a smartass remark, I gained a little bit of acceptance. They still never invited me to play but they didn't stop me from playing when I showed up to crash a game. To me, that was a huge success.

I learned a few important things that day about hanging out with guys.
First: Don't be a baby.
Second: If someone dishes out some shit, you'd damn well better be prepared to dish some right back.
And finally: If you're going to join the boys you'd better be ready to play like a boy.

I reminded myself of those things last night as I inadvertantly became the crasher of a guys night out. I was having sushi with my friend R., when he got a text about meeting his friends for a drink. Since I'd been invited, I just assumed there would be other girls there. I was wrong. When I offered to leave so they could hang out, I was handed a beer. I didn't know half the guys there but was welcomed into the fold. I was included on games of pool, jukebox music selection and March Maddness chat. There was shit-talking when it came to baseball teams (Screw you, S. I can love an NL and an AL team) and even more shit talking when it came to music (I had the audacity to choose "Fool in the Rain" over "D'yer Maker" as my favorite Led Zeppelin song) but once again I managed to hold my own.

Overall, I'd say the night was a smashing success. And I didn't even have to throw a ball at anyone...