No one, that is, except me and my escort who was, fortunately, still smitten and pulled himself from “the party of a lifetime” to accompany me back to my dorm. The frat house was packed, others were outside clamoring to get in, and no one was leaving. It was readily apparent that this rocking party would go well into the night. Amidst a resulting chorus of shouts and whoops, he clicked his sticks and began to play. With that caveat seemingly understood, we joined the shoulder-to-shoulder partygoers at the neighboring frat house when, without fanfare, none other than Charlie Watts appeared behind the drum set. The rumor was that the drummer of the Rolling Stones-who had finished a concert in Indianapolis-was friends with someone in the frat house band and was coming to campus to play with them.Įxcited but skeptical about a Rolling Stones appearance, I worriedly warned my semi-date/dance partner about my curfew-if I wasn’t inside Teter Quad at 1 a.m., my parents would be called. One dance led to another until the band stopped playing and the two of us were walking hand in hand to Jordan Avenue where the Sigma Nu house was buzzing with news of a live band party at a nearby fraternity. Seeing a dimple that made him even cuter, I cast a questioning glance at my friends who were unanimously nodding their approval. I’m a pledge and I told my fraternity brothers I would get the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen to dance with me.” His face relaxed into a smile. Taking my parka and tossing it on a chair, he pointed at a group of guys in matching windbreakers. Gesturing at my circle of girlfriends hovering nearby, I protested. His tone was urgent: “You can’t leave until you dance with me.” He was tall, blond, and boyishly cute with intense blue eyes. From behind, a hand clasped my arm and twirled me around. As the band began their final set, I crossed the fieldhouse to grab my coat. The following submissions-many of which deliver “happily-ever-after” endings-include stories about persistent suitors, a rumored appearance from a Rolling Stone, and some curfew close calls.Ī crisp, brilliant, September night in Bloomington provided the backdrop for my first dance on campus. To say our inbox was flooded would be a major understatement. In the Winter/Spring 2022 issue of the IU Alumni Magazine, readers submitted first-date memories from their time at IU.
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