Wednesday, 02 March 2011

• The Committee: How Five Horny Dudes Turned Monday Into Friday

  

  During my junior year of high school, I had an economics class that was taught by my basketball coach. Needless to say, there wasn't much economic dialogue taking place. I sat in the back corner with four of my friends, and every day we spent block 3 debating movies, girls, sports, and so on. Halfway through the year we began a brazen attempt to rank the top 50 movies of all time, largely because of my long-standing claim that The Rundown, starring Duane "The Rock" Johnson, deserved a spot in the top 25.

  During one of our panel discussions that week, a smoking-hot babe from the grade above us came in to drop off some papers for the teacher. Our conversation died quicker than a carnival goldfish, and my buddy Harry summed up the thoughts of the group rather nicely: "Screw movies. Let's do the girls in our school."
  
  We tore out a new page in our notebooks and began the bold attempt at ranking the top 25 girls in our school based purely on physical attractiveness. We gave as much consideration to personality as we did to political affiliation. The number dropped from 50 to 25 due to our small school size (roughly 400 students). The process was fluid, and secretly we agreed upon a two-week rating period in which each person's daily wardrobe, enthusiasm, and general attractiveness weighed into their overall ranking. We even gave ourselves a name: "The Committee".
  
  As anyone who's ever gone to high school knows, the more you try to keep something a secret, the quicker it'll get out. You told your best friend you're gay? You just kicked down the closet door, SWAT-team style. You think Johnnie's sister is hot? Now Johnnie wants to see you at the flagpole after school. You experimented with your golden retriever and some peanut butter? We'd like to introduce you to Ms. Kelly, the school psychiatrist.
  
  Within a week, word had gotten out that The Committee was attempting to take the female gender back to the 40's. The story broke over a weekend, and we all prepared for the shit-storm that would follow on Monday. As I walked into school I imagined myself getting pelted with AA batteries, my cries for mercy drowned out by Title IX chants as I got stomped out by the field hockey team.
  
  Instead, I walked into a 17-year-old boy's Utopia.
  
  There were skirts and heels everywhere. The hallway looked like Rio de Janeiro. Girls I had never spoken to gave a friendly "hello" and waved. We had single-handedly turned Monday - historically a terrible day for eye candy - into Friday night.
  
  They loved it.
  
  Suffice to say, the next five days were incredible. There were pockets of resistance, but on the whole, the people understood our message: we're not trying to patronize you, we're trying to appreciate you. We're not bashing anybody; we're lifting people up. Really, if you want to boil it down, it was just five horny dudes with some time to kill between English and Gym class.
  
  On the final day, we each handed our 25-person list in, and added up the points (25 for a 1st-place vote, 24 for 2nd, and so on). I probably put more work into this list than I have on anything since. You could say it was my passion.
  
  We tabulated the final list and gazed at it like it was the Magna Carta. We debated the rankings like Congress debating foreign policy. We high-fived and patted each other on the back for two weeks of hard work paying off.

  Then shit hit the fan.
  
  One of Committee members happened to have his list in his pocket while he hung out with his girlfriend after school (that shows you how much thought went into it; we constantly had our lists on our person, updating and making notes by the hour). A flirtatious hand-in-the-pocket later, and she found herself ranked 6th on his personal top 25. She promptly went ape-shit. I can hear you ladies now: "Damn right she did!" Allow me to explain our point of view.
  
  First, our group was so true to our mission, so dedicated, that the two Committee members who had girlfriends refused to blindly give them the #1 spot. If the guys on Wall Street were this honest, your parents would still have that beach house. Second, we all thought this was something worthy of a modeling portfolio. "She's ranked sixth," we said. "She should be proud! Does she have any idea how hard it is to crack the top ten?"

   

   

   

  

  After that, the fun was over. A group of girls tried to make a list of their own to show us how it felt to be judged; the list was basically a ranking of boyfriends and never gained much media (read: student) attention. The pocket incident became the enduring image of our quest, and that pained me deeply; instead of the joyous times and hard work, we were remembered for coming between a loving couple. Still, I'm proud of what we accomplished, and I'll always look back at those couple of weeks with a fuzzy feeling in my heart, and in the seat of my pants.
  
  How do you feel about The Committee? Were they the despicable portrait of anti feminism? Noble antiheroes misunderstood by history? Or just some horndogs having some fun?

  Image Source Image Source

  • 1:00 PM
  • 4653 Views
  • 16 eProps
  • 9 Comments