A need to be special, to belong.
The Lucky Six Club
We had an exclusive club in eighth grade; there were six of us, thus “The Lucky Six Club”. Every Friday we would meet at a different girl’s house and our moms would feed us. Whenever it was my turn, my mom made Sloppy Joes. They were really yummy.
We each had a charm bracelet with a shamrock dangling from the faux-silver bracelet that turned my wrist green… We were oh so special. And I guess we were mean—now that I look back on it. Nobody else was allowed to join.
Just to be clear, we were not the pretty, popular girls—the cheerleader types. We were in the band, the orchestra, 4-H, the German Club, etc.
And, we hated being excluded. So what did we do? We formed a club and excluded people. Go figure.
We had a password. I remember one Friday afternoon while we were having our meeting at my house, the doorbell rang. It was Suzy Bachman, one of our classmates. She was nice enough, but she was one of the cheerleaders, and way too pretty.
“Jackie, can I look over your notes for the chem quiz?”
“What’ s the password?” I said, feeling ever so powerful.
“How should I know?” Suzy said, wrinkling her brow like she thought I was crazy.
Bunny Jansen piped up with, “You can’t come in if you don’t know the password.”
“Fine,” Suzy said, turned, and hurried down my front steps.
It felt so good! At the same time, it felt so bad!
The Lucky Six Club only lasted a few months. Our mothers got tired of cooking; we six got tired of each other.
Sixty years later, I don’t know any of those girls; I don’t even know if they’re alive.
Just goes to show you…