BOYFRIENDS AND BULLETS I DODGED

"Making Mother Dizzy"

THEN:

For the longest time, boys were just not my thing. They were fine as friends, but if they wanted to get all googly-eyed and talk about kissing or being my boyfriend, then I, in turn, wanted to beat the sappy out of them. I was about eleven years old before I finally decided that a boy was interesting enough to look at if he didn't catch me looking and maybe, just maybe, daydream about a little bit every now and then.

I had been reading romance novels since I was nine, but all that mushy stuff was not for me. It was for grown ups, I supposed. I read my sister Sandi's romance novels when I had already finished all my own books and all our comic books before we had made it back to the library. I read the romance novels mostly out of desperation and for the adventures that they packed in between the love making sessions. I did not skip any pages or even any words, not a one. I was concerned I'd miss something, and I did not like to miss things. But reading the romance books often went something like this in my head: Kidnapped by pirates? Hurrah! Seduced by pirate. Okay, whatever. Escaping from pirates! Hurrah!

Once, I was reading on my bed and Sandi was reading on hers, when I somehow noticed that my sister was turning pages in an odd manner. I continued to hold my book up, as though I were still reading it, but really I was counting the seconds between her pages. Sixteen seconds went by and she turned a page. The next page was up for seventy-two seconds. The next page for ten seconds. The next page for sixty-eight seconds. The next page for four seconds.

Four seconds!?

"Hey!" I made the word sound like an accusation. "What are you doing?"

Sandi jumped. "I'm reading. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Well, you sure are reading funny! You read one page for over a minute, and the next one for ten seconds, and the next one over a minute again. What are you doing?!" I shook my head and grimaced. I was clearly appalled.

"Oh." She said, "I'm just reading the dialog."

"The what?!"

"The dialog. You know, the part in quotation marks."

"I know what dialog is! Why on Earth would you ever do that?! You'll miss something important!" I felt like I'd just caught my sister cheating on her book. "Do you do that all the time?" I was thinking she wasn't really a reader, not a real reader. She'd been putting forward a false face for years, all my life! I did not even know my own sister!

"Not all the time, no. But if a book get's kind of boring then I just flip through it and skip all the boring descriptions and read the dialog."

I looked at her like she had suddenly grown an extra head. "What?" Sandi laughed nervously. "Don't you do that?"

"Nooooo!"

She laughed again.

It took me months to get used to the idea that my sister cheated on her books. I either dumped them (threw them down) or I read every word. I'd only been able to throw aside a couple of books in my short life because even a boring book was better than no book at all. Most often, I remained true to the book and read every word. I could not imagine any wishy washy reading like my sister was involved in. I consoled my shocked nature by pointing out that Sandi had read every word of every book that she had read aloud to me, which was a ton of books. I often followed along with her as she read, so I knew she did not cheat on those.

The feeling of loyalty that I gave my books would be very similar to the loyalty I gave my boyfriends. If I was through with you, you knew it. If I was with you, I hung on every word. It was all or nothing in my world.

The first boy that I developed a romantic interest in was named Billy. I tended to rename lots of people in my head and he soon became Billy Boy. He had shiny black hair and arresting blue eyes. He was not tall, but everyone was taller than me, so what did I care? I was twelve years old and in my last year at LFE. In music class we sang, "Oh where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy? Or where have you been, Charming Billy?" And I wondered where he had been in his life and where he would go. I imagined myself offering him a chair, and baking him a pie, and my family and myself moving right in with him and his family. If I was "A young thing and cannot leave her mother" then I wasn't leaving my pop or my sister either. We were a package deal as far as I was concerned!

Only a few girls in my grade had open crushes or claimed to have boyfriends, and for years I had rolled my eyes at them. I could not suddenly turn into that which had made me roll my eyes for years, now could I? I tried to make sure no one saw me watching Billy Boy, especially him. If he had caught on to my fascination, I was sure the Earth would swallow me up. I was pretty sure that Billy Boy was not the nicest of kids. He hung out with some of the bullies and he acted like he had more money than I did. He tended to be loud and a little cruel, in my opinion. So, I did not delude myself that he would return my interest. I just hid my affections until they finally, blessedly, landed on someone else.

Someone else happened to be twins that were about a year older than me. They were named Gary and Larry. I called them Mike and Ike in my head because my mother had often dressed my niece, Tanya, and me in similar clothing and then tell us, "Mike and Ike, look just alike." Gary and Larry were not identical twins. They did not "look just alike" but neither did Tanya and I. She was seven years younger than me and almost as brown and tan as I was pale and blonde. I did not care if they looked just alike, Mike and Ike were both cute as buttons with wild hair that bordered on afros. Gary's hair was light brown and Larry's was dark blond. They had sweet, bright eyes and scandalous ideas, and I wanted to grow up and marry both of them at the exact same time. I could see it in my head, a bride with a groom on each arm. Either that or I would marry my old pal Randall's uncle Gary. He would do almost as well, though there was only one of him. I wondered if I would ever meet a Gary I didn't like. It just seemed to be one of the cute guy names as I was growing up.

Otis Outstanding was a neighbor that I had a crush on. Most of the people in his family were underachievers, but Otis stood out as a shining exception to their hard living and poverty. He had ambition and sweet secret dreams. You could see them in his eyes. He spoke as though he thought about things that none of his siblings ever bothered to think about. I developed an intellectual interest in him. I wanted to know what was going on in that head of his, and I featured him in my romantic daydreams for a while. But Otis was quite a bit older than me. We were destined to go our separate ways. Wherever he is, I sure hope he's alive, well, and happy.

Once I switched schools I was all about Mike Sexy. He was another dark haired, blue eyed guy, but I found him at my new school. He was much nicer but had a full following of girls that I was not sure I wanted to compete with. He had muscles, and suddenly muscles seemed like a very good thing for a guy to have! At CES, almost all the girls in my grade seemed interested in boys and I had never rolled my eyes at any of them, so I felt like less of a freak for noticing boys. Still, I was two years older than most of the other kids, and that in itself left me feeling a bit freaky. I did not mention my interest in Mike, especially not to Mike. Would he think I was too old? Would he think I was some old lady pervert? But I did learn to flirt with lots of the boys. Flirting was a fun new game and I soon found out I was decent at it. I remember being very relieved when Mike Sexy finally started the flirting game with me. Apparently, most of the boys in my grade, did not think I was too old for them. I never found myself lacking in the attention department in all my years at CES. Guys liked me and now I really liked guys! The headaches I must have given my poor parents!

I met Gentleman Joe at the county fair. If I ever knew his last name it has been swallowed up by the years that have since washed over me. We spent an evening courting, old fashioned style. It was like something out of a novel. He asked permission and then held my hand gently on the Ferris wheel. He stood back so I could get on the rides first. He held doors open and made sure my safety harness was latched. He bought me some cotton candy and tried to win me a stuffed animal. He talked about going on other dates, but we both knew we would probably never see each other again. We did not. We had that one magic evening. It was my first openly romantic date and I still think of that night fondly, especially when I'm at a county fair.

On my new bus I discovered a guy named Greg. He was not the Greg I would some day marry. This Greg was probably a good three or four years older than me, closer to the age of my second husband than my first. He had curly blond hair and reminded me a lot of Rex Smith, a serious heartthrob for that day! Greg had a girlfriend and they were both very kind to me. In fact, he was so sweet to me that my head took to calling him Greg Sweet. I don't think I was good at hiding my little crush on him, but I was twelve, and short, and very guy-awkward. I looked closer to ten than twelve unless I was wearing something that accented my bosom, which I was usually careful to avoid. I was not  comfortable in my new skin for several years after getting it. I don't think Greg Sweet's girlfriend saw me as much of a threat, and she was correct. I just wanted to look at her boyfriend and maybe hear him speak to me once in a while. He did talk to me often. He called me "Pretty" like it was my name, and then laughed when I blushed. One morning as he and his girlfriend made their way off the bus (the bus dropped off the high school kids at the high school and then took the rest of us out to the elementary school) Greg Sweet whispered in my ear, "Do you wanna screw?" My mouth fell open and I was trying to decide if I should give him an earful of outrage when he laughed, grabbed my hand, and dropped a shiny metal screw into my palm. I shut my fly catcher, utterly speechless, and he and his girlfriend laughed all the way off the bus. I was mortified, and scandalized, and yet flattered. I kept that screw for years!

Brian and I had a nice kissing session at a St. Valentine's Day party that Ramona, Cindy, and I threw at my home. We also claimed each other as boyfriend and girlfriend a few different times. I often thought of him as Sir Smiles-a-Lot. He had a huge grin and a great sense of humor. I did not usually find myself drawn to blond guys. Probably because I was blond, I thought of it as "girl hair" and was not often attracted to blond men. But the blonds I did like, I liked a lot. Brian was blond and adorable! He and I gave one of our math teachers what was likely the most uncomfortable class of his life. We sat in classroom "holding hands" in plain view, but our hands did not just hold, they caressed, they glided over each other with sensual joy, they made wild hand-love with sweet abandon. And poor Mr. Spear was watching and trying to give a math lesson. I'm not sure, looking back, what we hoped to prove, but Brian thought it was fun and hilarious. I loved holding his hand, so I went along. We sat together in the back seat of the bus and held hands, we scrunched down for privacy, and we kissed a few times. It was fun but never amounted to anything serious.

Brad the Liar thought he had the tiger by it's tail. He had an interest in me and I, for a very short time, returned it. I agreed to "go out" with him, which was our way of doing what our parents had called "going steady." Then I heard that he was whispering the exact same words in Nancy's ear, in Ramona's ear, and in my friend Shan's ear. It was one thing to flirt with lots of people. Most of us did that. It was well accepted unless or until you had claimed a boyfriend or girlfriend that claimed you back. But he had asked all of us to "go out", to be his ONE and only girlfriend!

My friends were outraged and wanted to confront him right then, but I had an idea. Yes, we would confront him. We would tell him what a jerk he really was... But first we would show him what happened to guys that messed with us, and this would have to wait until the weekend when most of us could converge at my house. We had discovered this womanizing boyfriend through our phone conversations, but I had a plan that was better acted out if most or all of us could hang out at my house. I filled them in on my plan and they were elated. Somehow we all managed to hold our peace and continue the ruse of a relationship with Brad until the weekend rolled around. For my part, I avoided him like the plague. I was convinced I would lose my temper and give us away if I did not.

The next weekend Nancy and Ramona came to my house and so did my young niece Tanya. My mother often told us Tanya was my little shadow. Shan had not been able to get her parents to bring her out to visit me, so we spent much of the day on the phone with her. It rained hard that Saturday. It was late in the fall and the day was gray and cold. I called my "boyfriend" up and told him I had to see him now! It was very important, and could he please meet me at Hardee's fast food restaurant right away? Brad was still too young for a driver's license and so he biked everywhere he went on his own. He agreed and Nancy, Ramona, Tanya, and I watched from my living room picture window, snickering evilly as he rode his bike up the hill in the pouring rain to see me, though I was not at Hardee's and was instead dryly ensconced at home with my girlfriends. We kept Shan abreast of what was going on, but she lived up on one of the ridges and was missing out on the live show that we were getting. When he got home he called me and I apologized sweetly, telling him my parents had made me come home. Two more times we dragged him out in the rain and past my house for false romantic rendezvous. Though by the time Ramona called he was feeling a bit jaded and she had to promise favors he was never going to get from her! We enjoyed watching him suffer. When he biked past the last time, his head bowed in the rain and his exhausted legs peddling slowly, I whispered, "Ride, Brad. Ride!" in the same manner we had all read "Run, Spot. Run." in the first grade. The other girls laughed until their sides hurt.

Then Ramona and I got on one of my phones and Nancy on the other. I called him and let them listen to him tell me how much he loved me and that I was the only girl in the world for him. An hour later he told Ramona the same thing. Nancy did not wait for her turn to call him. She had heard enough! She interrupted his love talk with Ramona and surprised him with her sweet but very angry little voice. She was furious and let him know exactly what she thought of him. He was so shocked to hear Ramona and me chime in and tell him how much we disliked him too. I told him that he would never date a decent girl in our town again because we would let everyone know what a liar he was. After we all "broke up" with him and told him off, I gave Shan the news and she did the same. Poor Brad the Liar was broken up with four times in one day and got soaked to the bone as well. I was sure it was a town record. What a hard day for Brad!

Cindy and I dated a couple of friends for a while. Gorgeous Neal and Rowdy Ronnie were old enough to have driver's licenses and Ronnie had his very own truck. Neal was one of those simply gorgeous guys. Soft brown hair, bright eyes, muscles, and a charming smile. Ronnie was light skinned, light haired, heavy set, fun, and loud. Cindy and I wanted to go on double dates, so I suggested these two friends that were always hanging out together, just like she and I were. Cindy agreed, but only if she got to date Neal and I dated Ronnie. My interest in Neal was the real reason I'd suggested such an idea in the first place, but I had this habit of bowing out if my friends were attracted to the same guy that I was. I did not figure any romantic relationship was worth the risk of ruining a friendship. Friendships were supposed to last forever. Whereas a romantic interest, the majority of the time, was going to end. Ideally, I thought that romantic interest should end in a friendship, but I knew that would not always be the case. Besides, interesting guys seemed so much easier to find than interesting girls! I had to hold on to the few females I truly felt comfortable with. They were few and far between. This stepping aside idea of mine had worked brilliantly with every guy but my great interest -- Buddy. All my girlfriends just had to share Buddy with me because I was not bowing completely out! I would not show a romantic interest in him if you and he were dating, but I could not stop my heart from revolving around him, and I would not stop talking to him. Buddy and I were friends if we were nothing else.

Ramona, Nancy, Cindy, Shan, Jutannia, and I often dated the same guys, just not at the same time. Sometimes we seemed to trade them almost like baseball cards, back and forth and repeatedly. It was a very small town we were in! My mother said it made her dizzy trying to keep up with which boy was with which girl. I think the only guy Michelle and I both had an interest in was Buddy, but I'm not sure if she was very interested in him. She tended to like a type of boy that I was not attracted to. I figured I could easily beat most of them up and that kind of killed the romance for me. They were often light haired and skinny. I was convinced I could beat any of the boys up if I had to, but I did not have a romantic interest in the guys that I thought would be an easy win for me. For the longest time, she dated my third cousin, Dean-o. I figured a stiff wind could beat that skinny little guy up, and I was unsure about the cousin thing anyway, so I had no interest in him at all. In the end, Michelle married a guy that looked pretty formidable, so I guess that was all that really mattered. I had no idea who Angie dated, as we lost touch more than Jutannia and I did as the years went by.

Cindy and I shared Gorgeous Neal. I remember being boyfriend/girlfriend with him at school and standing all hugged up at the top of the outside staircase, overlooking the motel where I sometimes played hookie. (Always all by myself, solitude was kind of the whole point). But he and I had tapered off when I came up with the idea of dating Ronnie and Neal, so Cindy was well within her rights to call dibs on Neal. I bowed out and Cindy dropped the hints that got us asked out, then we started dating Rowdy Ronnie and Gorgeous Neal. Ronnie and Neal liked to take us to the steak house and to the movies. We loved those dates, but I dreaded being picked up by Ronnie unless Cindy or Neal were already in the truck. Ronnie liked to wax his truck seats right before picking me up. Then he would do donuts in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, causing me to slide across the seat and slam into him, then slide back across the seat and slam into the door, then slide across the seat and slam into him again. I guess, it was some primitive mating ritual and/or he was simulating sex and working on his technique, but I did not appreciate the gesture! I found myself contemplating wearing a seat belt, which was something I had never done before in my entire life! Ronnie and Neal also liked to hide moonshine in the creek bed and drink like fiends! The 'shine was luminous by the soft lights from the dash board, and it went down like hot silk. I loved it even more than Gorgeous Neal. One night Neal got so drunk he could barely walk. Cindy had told me earlier that day that she and Neal were not going to work out. She knew I had been interested in him originally and told me, "Go for it, if you want to." So, I let Neal kiss my moonshine lips in the moonlight, but it was not at all like when he and I had been dating. I found out that drunk people, even gorgeous drunk people, kiss very poorly! Gorgeous Neal's sloppy drunkenness concerned us both, and Cindy and I moved on to other guys.

I had been bullied at church for years by a guy we will call Johnny Mac Maybe. I landed on the Maybe name when he decided that I was suddenly more interesting as a love interest than a victim. He asked me to date him and I thought, "MAYBE this is a chance to show him how biting goes." Which is a saying my family used when we wanted to take revenge. It came from my dear Crit biting a possum because the possum bit him first. Before he chowed down on the rodent's nose, Crit yelled, "I'll show you how biting goes!" And it became my family's battle cry for justice.

As I hung out with Johnny Mac Maybe, my heart softened. I soon decided that Johnny Mac had bullied me out a very uncomfortable and false sense of how to flirt with girls. He treated everyone with more respect than he had a few years before, and he really was a sweet but very awkward guy. He was genuinely shocked when I told him he had frightened me when he chased me all around the church house for hours while his dad preached fire and brimstone sermons inside. I soon did not have the heart for any more plans of vengeance on this poor guy, and thus I set him free. But Johnny Mac did not want to be set free, and I accidentally found the revenge I had set out for. He cried on my shoulder. He sent me multiple letters asking me what he did wrong and begging for the opportunity to try again. MAYBE, he guessed, I was angry because he didn't try to kiss me? MAYBE I was angry because he didn't buy me gifts? Or beat up other boys for me? Or take me to movies? Whatever it was, if I'd just tell him then he could fix it. I eventually told my girlfriend Jutannia what had happened and she smiled a secret, sneaky smile. I always suspected she distracted him for me for a bit because the letters stopped, and eventually he and I both moved on to other interests.

At the skating rink and at school sock hops I had certain guys that would search me out for "couple skating" or "slow dances". Most I welcomed; all I gave a "yes". I had made a deal with myself when I was thirteen. I don't remember what inspired it. Was it a Sadie Hawkins dance that left me speechless? Was it a particular episode of The Brady Bunch that highlighted some boys great fear before asking out a girl? I don't remember. What I do remember is that it occurred to me that it took a great deal of courage to even ask a girl to dance or skate, especially if you were not a wildly popular boy. I admired courage greatly, and I vowed that day to never turn a guy down unless I had already promised the next song to another boy, or I was sick, or injured. So, at the sock hops and the skating rink, I accompanied any boy that found the nerve to ask me. I danced if invited. I skated if invited. In the event that I had that song promised, I would tell them they had dibs on the next one if they wanted. I did not have a dance card, but I was not so popular that I couldn't keep my promises straight.  Sometimes the other girls teased me just a little for dancing with the unpopular boys. "He picks his nose!" Or "He's such a nerd!" But CES was much kinder than LFE had been, and someone else usually put any thoughtless teaser in their place before I felt I had to. I told my best friends about my deal with myself and challenged them to do the same. As far as I know, Nancy and Michelle danced with every guy that found the courage to ask them from that point on. Now there were three of us doing in and it became less noteworthy.

If I felt comfortable enough with a certain guy or interested enough in him I would sometimes be the one to seek him out. I often pointed at my sweet friend Jimmy and said, "You're mine next dance!"

Jimmy would grin and say, "Yes, ma'am." He enjoyed being claimed that way. He was a wickedly free dancer and he did not put girls off until the slow dances. Most boys would only brave the dance floor when the song was slow. They would stand in the shadows and watch the girls dance with each other during the faster songs. But Jimmy was bold and wild. He lived on the dance floor. I often wound up sharing him with Nancy and sometimes even a bevy of other girls, but if I had started the dance with him and decided I wanted to catch his eye, hold his hand, or cuddle up to his chest, there was always a path made for me. There was an unspoken understanding: If we had started the dance together then I was his dance partner and he was mine. If he had started the dance with some other girl, I would never have challenged that, but I would feel free to claim him for the next one. I suspected that I could have even gotten by with being a big jerk and pulling him away from most any girl there, but I did not want to be a jerk. And the girls in my grade hardly ever had hard feelings over boys. Groups of us danced together with the sort of joy and abandonment that only comes with being young and having your whole life ahead of you. All the world is new and beautiful when you are that age.

There was a guy named Max (I called him Maxy) that grabbed my attention at the skating rink. He had a brother whose moniker was much more common and I may have forgotten. I think it was John. He was every bit as good looking, but a little more shy and so I did not get to know him quite as well. These brothers were not from my home town. We had the only skating rink in several counties. Often one of them accompanied me for the couple skating. I was a bit uncomfortable skating with them though, because when they were not holding my awkward little hand they were twisting, and looping, and skating backwards. They were much more adept skaters than I was. They looked like joy in motion on the skating rink when not tied to my hand, so I felt as though I was holding them back. I often skated with a couple of brothers named Matthew and Billy. And Brian and Jimmy were skating rink regulars that I found myself whizzing around the skating rink with while the disco ball turned and Joan Jett belted out over the speakers. Good times in the 80s!

Once, Ramona and I brought a couple of boys home that we had been hanging out with out town. It was getting dark and much colder. They only wanted to come in an warm up by our wood stove. I jokingly said, "Look what the cat dragged in," As I brought them through the door.

Without missing a beat, my daddy said, "Yeah, and the cat can drag them right back out too!"

Poor John and Walter were destined to freeze that day.

I dated Psycho Wayne right before I met my future husband, Greg. Psycho Wayne was the brother of this really sweet guy that I had known for years. The sweet guy's nickname was Trigger. (Yeah, like the horse.) I don't remember what his real name was, though I used to know it. But I made the mistake of thinking that, since Trigger was a very sweet guy, his brother Wayne was probably a very sweet guy too. My sisters and I, though separated by ten and twelve years, were very similar. Surely Trigger and Wayne were similar too, right? At first things went fine. Then I found out Wayne had a penchant to kiss and tell. I was unhappy about that and voiced my opinion. He talked me into forgiving him, just this once. When he did it again, I tried to break up with him, but he cried and begged me not to. I probably would have followed through anyway, but Wayne pulled Lila into it and she suggested forgiveness, so I forgave again, but things were not the same. I just did not care for him like I had. I did not trust him and I did not really like him. I gathered my sand and told him so a few weeks later. He cried again, but this time I was prepared for it. Psycho Wayne pulled out another ace in the hole though and threatened suicide. "How could I live without you?" He asked me, and I found myself wondering what I would do if someone killed themselves because I broke up with them. Surely, he must love me a lot to be that desperate. I caved once more and we were back to dating. A few weeks later, the misery got to me again, and I tried to break up with him. This time he threatened not only to kill himself but to kill me as well. This one simply threw me, and I was back on the dating horse. He was huge and strong. I had never had a death threat and was not sure what to do or where to turn to. But it only staggered me for a couple more weeks. Again, I tried to end the misery and when crying didn't work, and threatening suicide did not work, and threatening to kill me did not work, Wayne threatened to kill my much adored niece, Tanya Lynn. This time I was not thrown into pity or confusion. This time I was thrown into rage and I knew exactly what to do! I told him to wait right there for just a minute. I marched into my house (we'd been having the break up conversation in the back yard because I did not want my family to hear his crying or threatening.) I grabbed a giant butcher knife from the kitchen drawer and tucked it into my clothing. I took it outside and brandished it his way, asking him to say that again.

He did not, but I then surprised him by putting the knife handle in his own hand and saying, "Okay, now kill yourself if you want to!" I pulled up his shirt sleeve to show him his wrist. "Or kill me if you'd rather." I pulled back my hair and threw back my head, exposing the soft white skin of my neck, "God knows I'd find relief from you either way. But if you EVER think I'm going to stand around and let you threaten my niece again you have got another think coming! I will take that knife away from you with my bare hands in a hummingbird heartbeat and shove it up your ass if you EVER... PRETEND... to THINK about threatening a hair on her head again! You and I are not worthy of her little fingernail, and it's best that you never forget that again. Do you understand that?!" He nodded in shock and perhaps awe or fear. I will never know. I then took back my mother's knife and ordered Wayne off my dad's property telling him to never come back. I stood shaking with anger while he walked down the steps.

Soon he was dating my cousin Herletta. She and I had struggled with differences, and she and Wayne would snigger my way in the movie theater. I knew who was happier in that situation and did not let it get to me for an instant. I was glad to be shed of Psycho Wayne. A few months later I heard through the grapevine that he was threatening suicide on Herletta, so I told my story to a mutual friend hoping it might get back to my cousin and help her get away from Psycho Wayne. Herletta and I had a strained relationship but I did not want anyone stuck with that crazy guy. She eventually managed a successful breakup and I was relieved for her. Shan dated him briefly and had similar problems with him. After that, she and I warned all our friends to stay away from Psycho Wayne. These days, though, I wonder if I wasn't a tad more psycho than Psycho Wayne was. I guess he wondered that too. Possibly he still does.

Many of these guys were fine individuals and would have made good and interesting life mates. Some of them could perhaps even logically consider themselves "too good for me". And some of them were bullets I am quite happy to say I dodged.