File this under fond memories......
And no date. Fifteen year old, She-cub "woe is me" angst to the "nth" degree. Had to GO! Had to be SEEN! "Sire, five of my friends and I are going to go 'stag', okay?"
"I suppose that's fine, Little One....I'll ferry you over and pick you up after. Sounds like fun!"
"NOOOOOOOOoooooooOOOOOooooo!!!, Daddy, you're ruining my LIIIiife!! We can't be seen with YOOOOOoooouuu!!"......all at about 180 decibels and a pitch barely in human hearing. "We'll have "friends" take us!"
Well, gentle readers, if you know Wollf, this was not considered a viable option for Wollf. Do the math.....Sixteen year old, apple of my eye She-cub + baggy pants ed, brain dead, one thing one his little mind "boy" + Not Home Til Midnite = Trouble.
She wanted to go. Her friends wanted to go. I wanted her safe, her friends parents wanted them safe.....what is a Wollf to do? I turned it into a mission and decided the target goals and parameters:
Overall Goal of Mission: Get all Six She-cubs home safely and within non-worry time lines.
Secondary Mission: Make it an enjoyable and memorable evening.....include safely.
Tertiary Mission: Don't "embarrass" the easily embarrassed She-cubs......include safely.
So....once outlined, the answer became clear. Mission needs: Chaperon. But not a parent....destroys the tertiary mission parameter. Not an older sibling.....could affect parameters one and two.........heh.
I made some calls. All the parents agreed that Wollf's plan had a strong chance of success. I dialed once more and called in a "little" favor.
Enter Lance Corporal Bussey, USMC. In a Marine Corps Recruiter's van. Dress Blues, young, handsome.....and after a "teeny" discussion with Wollf, thoroughly understanding of the importance of maintaining the young She-cub's virtue. (that's really what I meant by "safely")
The girls Loved him. He introduced himself to each parent, assured them that he understood Wollf's directives, and drove them all, in one vehicle to the Dance, escorting them by twos to the door.
He stood at Parade Rest on the edge of the dance floor all evening. Every "once in a while", he would "snap to" and "ceremony" glide out onto the floor, tap a young male on the shoulder, and make the universal hand signal for "You're dancing a bit too closely to be considered virtuous and if you don't repair the situation, it shall become less than comfortable for you".
All with that pleasant smile of his. By the end of the evening, all of the adult school chaperone's loved him, the little girls wanted to marry him, and the boys....well, the boys hated him.
Hey.....they all learned to do the "Box Waltz". Hee, hee.
Oh. And they were all home well within the "worry zone", not a hair or a corsage out of place, virtue intact......and Lance Corporal Bussey had a crisp hundred in his wallet.
Feel free to use this model for your own. Just don't use the Navy. Wouldn't work. Heh...Foxfier, don't make that face. You married one of those guys.
Editor's Note: My Cub is Bottom Row third from the Left. See why Wollf worries?
Makes my muzzle gray, that Cub.
Hope you enjoyed hearing about it.
I enjoyed doing it.
G-d bless the USMC.
And you to, Lcpl.