Like any other normal, teenage couple we went out for a coke or ice cream afterschool, held hands whenever we were together and kissed as much as was humanly possible. The wonderful thing about kissing is that you need no language to understand the feelings behind a kiss. No German words or English words were required for us to understand the sweetness, tenderness, passion and love that was growing between us. When Mario reached for my hand and our fingers melted together, neither of us needed to explain what was going on. During the summer of 1980, on a busy, international school campus, 5000 miles away from my home, Mario and I were falling in love.
When you live in a dormitory and attend a boarding school, where lots of other teens and adults are constantly present, it's next to impossible to find time alone. Wherever we went, we were surrounded by friends and the watchful eyes of the adults. Finding moments to be alone, just the two of us, were few and far between.
The sidewalk in front of the old castle ended and turned into a gravel path as we headed down a small hill. The further we walked down the hill, the more distant the voices from the school became. I looked around us, then I looked up, into Mario's eyes and a smile spread across both our faces...we were alone. We found a grassy spot on the hill and sat down next to each other.
Like any other teenage girl wildly in love with a cute teenage boy, I wanted to look nice when I was with Mario. I wanted Mario to think I was pretty. I wanted him to notice my wavy hair, my face with my big, brown expressive eyes, the way I was dressed and when he noticed these things about me, I wanted him to fall that much further in love with me.
That afternoon, I had chosen to wear jeans and a brand new white shirt. Though it was August, I know the temperatures were cooler because the white shirt I wore had long sleeves. Shopping for clothes wasn't something I got to do very often, when I was at home. There wasn't a lot of money for clothes, except the money I earned babysitting, so having new clothing was something special and I knew I looked nice with the white shirt and jeans.
Mario and I began to kiss and I laid back into the grass, my head resting on his left arm. No words were spoken but a million thoughts flew through my head because I had an idea that Mario had more then kissing on his mind. I vacillated between enjoying his kisses and worrying about whether or not I was ready for what might be coming next. One moment blended into the next, when suddenly Mario stopped kissing me and sat up. I had been so focused on the kiss that I didn't know if there had been a noise, if someone had walked by or what was going on. But the moment was gone and, unfortunately, so was the mood. Mario grabbed my hand and gently pulled me up to my feet, then we walked back toward the campus. Several minutes later we arrived back at the dormitory. Mario let go of my hand, kissed me sweetly and we said goodbye.
I had been in my dorm room for awhile when one of my roommates walked in. I was busy doing something and my back was turned so I gave a half-hearted wave and muttered "Hello".
"What is that?!", my roommate practically shouted. I can't imagine she would have sounded any different if she'd seen a yellow elephant with purple and pink polka dots go flying past our window.
"What is what?", I replied, startled, as I whipped around to face her.
"What's all over your back?", she retorted. I walked over to the mirror and she came over to me to point out what she was seeing, as if I could have possibly missed it. All over the backside of my nice, new white shirt and the butt-portion of my jeans were long, oval-shaped brown and green spots.
"Oh, my god!!", I cried out as my hands flew to my face. "What is it?"
My roommate moved in for a closer look, then jumped back. "Ewwwwww!"
Now I was mortified, grossed out, and on the verge of a teenage version of a heart attack. Not only was my backside covered in nasty brown and green spots, but the spots had an ever-increasing, rancid, stinky odor. Though there hadn't been a goose in sight, it was clear that when I laid down on that soft, grassy hill for some coveted alone-time with Mario, I had also been laying on a bed of goose poop. The evidence was plastered all over my back.
As I attempted to regain composure, a horrifying thought entered my mind. What if that had been the reason Mario jerked up and stopped kissing me? What if he had felt or seen the goose poop? Or worse yet, what if he didn't see the goose poop and thought it was me that smelled so horrible? My life flashed before my eyes and my eyes darted about the room, searching for a sinkhole, somewhere, so I could crawl into it and hide for the rest of my life. I was so embarrassed I didn't know how I could ever show my face again...to Mario, to my roommate, or any other person within a 5000 mile radius of my presence. Worse yet, I knew Mario would never want to be seen with me again.
Though my roommate tried to reassure me, I slunk to the bathroom, humiliated and depressed. I threw away my jeans and my brand new white shirt, got in the shower and washed myself off.
Later that evening, when I left the dormitory with my German and American friends to head over to the dining hall for dinner, Mario was standing outside waiting for me. As soon as I spotted him, a smile spread across his face. I approached him slowly, waiting for him to burst out in laughter over the goose poop incident so I could scurry back to the dormitory and hide under the bed for the rest of my life. But that didn't happen. He reached for my hand and we walked together, with our friends, to the dining hall. If he'd seen, smelled or knew about the goose poop all over me, he never said a thing. I wondered and obsessed about the incident many times over, but Mario never gave me any indication that he was aware of what had happened or, if he was, that it made any difference to him. Looking back, I like to think he was too wrapped up in our kisses to notice a little goose poop....or even a lot of goose poop, plastered all over my back.
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