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In her late teens my oldest sister Maureen had an enormous crush on a boy called Larry. Our father was not nearly so thrilled with Larry as Maureen was and referred to him, with obvious dislike, as Larry the Lounge Lizard. In my sister's eyes this was the perfect man, Mr. Right, "The One", and all the pet names my father could think of could not convince her he was anything less.

Maureen went to incredible lengths to catch the attention of Mr. Right, to no avail, and yet she persisted: new clothes, makeup, special haircuts, phone calls, flirting, hanging out with his friends and more, she chased after this man more efficiently than a hound dog on the trail of a rabbit. I recall my mother making the comment "God help this guy, he doesn't stand a chance." She was right.

After months of pursuit, she did indeed manage to land a date with Larry. It was going to be the perfect date, she was certain of it. After all, this was "The One". Oh, there was primping and pruning and pampering going on for several days before this soon to be incredible encounter. Princess Diana was not as well prepared for her wedding day as my sister was for this date.

Finally, the big day arrived, the dream date of all time was about to begin. The prince arrived exactly on time to receive his princess and after proper introductions to the family they drove off to begin what Maureen thought would be an evening even more spectacular than Cinderella's night at the ball.

Indeed, things progressed even better than expected, and all too soon it was time to head home. Larry dutifully returned my sister just a little before the hour predetermined by our father. Naturally, some conversation continued between them for a few moments and Maureen just knew that the "big moment" was about to arrive - that first kiss. It was a beautiful, warm, moonlit summer night. It couldn't have been a more romantic setting.

Predictably, there was a moment of silence, the longing looks exchanged between them and then... Good grief! What was that awful noise? It sounded like a chorus of cats in heat.
At the time we lived on an old farm and there was still an old chicken coop remaining on the property. They glanced around to discover the source of the noise. There, on the roof of the chicken coop sat our brother, Danny, strumming his guitar and howling at the luminous full moon - drunk and stark naked. So much for that first kiss and the perfect date.

Mr. Dream Date was understandably put off by this raucous, drunken display and made a hasty exit. My sister was crushed, overshadowed only by the outrage she was feeling towards our brother. Danny correctly believed it would be safer to face the inevitable punishment he would receive our father rather than the wrath of our sister and stumbled his way into the house.

Unfortunately for Maureen, this event was not to have the happy ending that Cinderella experienced. The prince never did return to claim his princess again.

Learn more about this author, Erin Ahmed.
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