As I stood at attention looking straight ahead, he yelled in my left ear, "WHAT ARE YOU?"
"SIR, I'M A FISH, SIR!" I responded. The next question was obvious.
"AND WHAT IS A FISH?" he lashed out with the question.
"SIR, A FISH IS THE LOWEST SPECIES OF ORGANIC MATTER, SUBJACENT TO THE MOST FOULEST STENCH IMAGINABLE. HE IS MORE VILE β¦" I gave him the full dissertation without missing a beat. But for the rest of you, a "fish" is a freshman in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M University. I was a young man embarking on a new life, away from the childhood home I knew. After only a few weeks, my head was buzzed to within an eighth inch of my scalp, and my limbs were sore from running and "practicing" a class set of 83 pushups.
~ * ~
A noise startled me from my sleep. The dorm room was still new to me as I gazed into darkness from the top bunk. "Boom! Boom!" The noise grew closer and I began to discern yelling. "BANG!" Our door was hit and flew open. Light blinded me as the intruder yelled at us to get dressed and fall into formation with our instruments. The door slammed shut as if to punctuate the directive. The clock read 10:42! What the hell? I had been asleep all of 40 minutes!
Texas A&M is a school rich in traditions, and I was about to learn some more of them. Tomorrow was the first football game. It had been a hard couple of weeks, but we were primed for the Fighten Texas Aggie Band four-way cross-through at halftime the next day.
When I left home for college, I decided I would be socially bold. It wasn't just that I was a virgin, I had never experienced a sensual kiss or embarked on the physical exploration of a girl's body. Other than a few cheap shots, one dirty book I was caught reading, and a thorough review of my dad's magazines, I was totally clueless. My hormones had been screaming for years, but nervous fear and a tight parental leash held my hormones in check. However, given the chance, I was sure I would enjoy figuring it all out. Little did I know, the first test of my resolve was about to present itself.
As we reached formation, we could see the entire corps of cadets was active on "the Quad" (ROTC dormitory area). I soon found myself marching with trombone in hand as the cadence turned all eyes toward us. My heart was pounding with excitement as we entered the main campus to a swarm of students ready to rally with us for this late-night event.
Suddenly, the crowd was mingled within our ranks. George, a fellow freshman trombonist, began talking with an attractive girl who seemed to want to "join" us for the rally. I didn't know what that meant, but her tag along friend, Diane and I somehow paired up and I felt I got the better looker and the softer spirit. She was almost my height and said little more than an introduction between smiles. Her pale blue eyes were happy and her wavy light brown hair reached her elbows down her back and front.
"Hi! I'm Diane!" she tried to shout above the commotion and maintain her femininity.
"Hi! β¦" I tried to reply before getting cut off by a restart of the cadence. We were moving again. "BENJAMIN!" I shouted, and she nodded her head in understanding as we began to move again.
We played a couple of fight songs as we marched to the field that would later host the infamous homecoming bonfire. When we were finally standing in place, one of the upperclassmen pulled me aside to explain about "lights out." The tradition was that when the lights were turned off, you were to kiss the girl next to you until the lights were turned back on. Anyone caught not kissing when the lights came back on would have a special "detail" the next day. I glanced at Diane, who could not have heard, and we exchanged smiles, almost grins. I didn't know if she knew the tradition, but I was certain I was going to kiss her.
As we cheered and played various pep rally songs, my adrenalin was pumping as fast as ever. There were calls to rally and spirit-filled responses from the crowd. Diane's involvement showed enthusiasm, but tempered with self-control. She wasn't trying to put on a show, but she clearly enjoyed the school spirit. Finally, nervous anticipation was replaced by heart-pounding shock as the lights went out unannounced.
As if pushed from behind, I moved without hesitation. I switched my trombone to my left hand and wrapped my right arm around the slender waist of the beautiful girl beside me. There was no resistance as I pulled her body into mine. Our lips met as if planned and perfected. It was the softest touch I ever felt. The taste was deliciously sweet. The aroma was intoxicating as I entered a dreamy trance. Neither of us pressed any harder, but our tongues found each other and delighted to dance in the secluded darkness. My hand did not roam, but every point of contact between our bodies was a conduit of electricity. We just let the feelings course through us as the lengthy kiss worked its magic through the gentle touch of our lips and her clothed breasts against my covered chest.
The lights remained off. The kiss persisted and seemed to grow in intensity. I let out a soft hum and she purred in response. When the lights finally came back on, we didn't even flinch. Whoops and hollers began to rise in chorus, but it was outside our world and we continued in our embrace. It was the most wonderful experience of my life to date. Finally, I very gently pulled away and gazed into her eyes. My head was swimming with emotion and my smile stretched the limits of my face. She seemed just as pleased, and I continued to hold her close as long as our situation allowed.
George and I walked the girls to their dorm. They didn't seem interested in letting us in, but Diane gave me another remarkable kiss that convinced me what a good time she had. I was floating about 10 feet above the ground and awkwardly, reluctantly said, "Good night, Diane," as we walked away.