All my older brothers and I were in our school’s marching band. We were the definition of a Band Family. At least, we were until I quit. Oops. But I was a part of the band for one and a half years. I played the music, gave up my Saturdays, and stayed after school for practice.
Band was 8th period. Some days we would use these 45minutes to practice our music. Other days we would change at the beginning of 8th period and then go out to the field for a two and a half hour practice.
I always felt really cool because of this. It’s like “heck ya, I’m changing out of my uniform during school! Get at me!”
I got to the bathroom to change early one day. I changed, taking my time, and waited for the other girls to come in. They were taking a long time to get to the bathroom, so I left and walked down to the band room alone.
I headed towards what would be one of the most embarrassing situations of my life.
I walked into the band room to see all the other members of the band sitting, in their uniforms, already playing.
I sped walked to my seat, my chin to my chest. All eyes were on me. The director, a short feisty Italian man with no chin, made some snide comment that I’ve blocked from my memory. He thought the public humiliation of his students was appropriate.
I was teased by the upperclassmen for the rest of the year. Even now they still bring it up. This will never die down.