”“Bullshit, I saw you this morning.”“We didn’t fuck! I’ve never done that! I’m a virgin!”“Bull ... Shit! Get your shit in the truck,...or I’ll leave you here to be another one of the town whores like Peggy.”He walked away, leaving me speechless. I needed to talk to Petey. I needed to let him know what was happening. But I had no cell phone. I ran into the house to use the house phone only to find that it had already been disconnected. I thought of running to find Peggy and leaving a message with. ’It was 1964, and I was eight years old. The Cotillion was happening in the Knights of Columbus’s hall in our town on Tuesday nights. Two weeks after school was over - I was expected to put on my Sunday best; white shirt, black pants and tie – and was dropped off.Funny, now that I think about it. The boys were all ‘dropped off’, while many of the girl’s moms or dads stayed. Looking at it now, it was probably a way for the parents to ‘approve’ of whomever their little girl danced with.I have no. More

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