She had red hair, and I had been watching her for some time. There was something about her that excited me and held my attention. I think it was the red hair.

I just had to get to know her better, but the more I found out about her the more I realized she was out of my “class.” However, as “class” sometimes impedes, but does not always exclude one from crossing imaginary socially imposed barriers, I decided to take a leap of faith and see just where this relationship would take me – or us.

She had not been the only redhead in my life. There had been at least one earlier, and one or two later, but there was something special about this one. But, because of this difference in “class,” I knew I had to proceed with caution. One could easily suffer rejection by the object of one’s attention, as well as one’s peers and become the butt of many a joke. This could have dire consequences (short term) depending upon what is expected of a person at a particular place and time.

How to get a social engagement with her – I was soon preoccupied with that thought, again at the exclusion of more important things. I was unsure of her feelings for me. Certainly she had observed me observing her, although she showed no visible signs of accepting or rejecting me. And, she was certainly aware of the “class” differential – that was as obvious as day is from night.

I judged there might be an advantage in having a mutual friend intercede in my behalf. In this way, her rejection (if it came to that) could be handled discretely with little or no public embarrassment for either of us. There could be certain reprisals from her friends and mine if I was seen communicating with her directly. I would not subject her to any embarrassment.

Therefore, my friend approached her and made the arrangement for us to meet discretely. He reported that she was at first somewhat puzzled by my interest, especially since she recognized the obvious “class” difference – and, that I must also be cognizant of it. But, she agreed, just the same. I took this revelation in a most positive light.

The time, place and activity were agreeable to her, much to my delight. On the appointed day, and the appointed hour we both found ourselves casually walking in the same direction – toward our destination. Others were about – some alone and some in groups. It just seemed natural that we would be following the crowd to a common destination. No words were spoken between us. To the casual observer it would seem we were oblivious of each other’s presence. Perhaps it was best this way. Taking advantage of the silence between us, I was able to admire her beauty unimpeded by the responsibilities of social exchange. This void also afforded an opportunity to contemplate the many ways in which we were “different” from each other. What future did we have? I wondered.

The afternoon wore on and, returning from our agreed-upon activity, little communication had passed between us. As we approached her residence, she murmured an almost unintelligible “Thank you” as we departed company.

That clinched it for me, and I understood I was “out of my class.”

As I said, earlier, “She was out of my ‘class’. ” I was in the fourth grade and she in the fifth.

This was my very first date.