Spooky VooDoo
how to meet a lady
I once dated a girl whose nickname was "Voodoo." She said we had to break up because she didn't find me attractive. I said she should have mentioned that before all those nights she slept over.
To her credit, other than a few nice dinners, she never asked me for anything, and I never spent any money on her. I never understood why she let things get as far as they did if she didn't find me attractive, but the nickname should have been a warning. From what I understand, the next guy bought her a bunch of plastic surgery and a house in New Orleans, so maybe I got off pretty light.
I always liked girls from Ole Miss, but not in that way. They were lovely and pleasant, but we never connected beyond that. I heard there was this girl making a pretty big splash in the Ole Miss writing program. According to their yearbook, she was pretty, so I made a trip up north to see if I could trick somebody into an introduction.
Asking one of my friends about her, he said, "Oh yeah, they call her spooky." I did manage to catch a glimpse of her, and she was very pretty, but the "spooky" thing had me spooked, and I never pressed it. A few years later, she had one of the coolest first-edition book designs I ever saw and was on the NYT best-seller list for about a year. Maybe "spooky" wouldn't have been such a terrible thing after all.
My grandmother admonished me, saying that I should never approach a woman unless we'd been properly introduced. This was for my protection, as well as theirs. This is how a gentleman behaves. It's been quite a while since she told me that, and I've never violated that rule.
My one concession to the rule was that a qualified bartender counted as a proper introduction. There were times when I asked Inez Birthfield or Alisa Keogh Romero if they knew the girl with the curly hair and arranged an introduction that way. Sometimes, it worked out, and sometimes, it didn't. Usually, it was worth the effort.
One night, I asked Keogh to introduce me to a girl with big eyes. I recognized her as a Millsaps student, but we hadn't been introduced. Moments after meeting her, I realized I may have made a mistake. "Your dad's in the House of Representatives, isn't he?" I asked, and that was the end of the courtship. Remarkable girl, though. I was a big fan of her dad.
Inez once introduced me to a girl who said she was from Leland but later admitted she was from Pantherburn. "Do I know your brother?" I asked. I spent a year trying to keep up with her. I never did, and the effort nearly made me fail out of school. When it was over, I gave her an opal necklace to say "it's over" without having to say "it's over." I've done that a few times. I don't think they ever really understood what I was trying to say.
Another girl Inez introduced me to was from Clarksdale. I spent a little over a year chasing her, too. I was part of a weird love triangle where nobody won. Sometimes it happens that way.
Coming through rehab, she was the first person who didn't share a legal or genetic relationship with me that came to see me. She took me to dinner when I was well enough to get in and out of a car. We held hands. The nurses asked if she was my girlfriend. I said, "A long, long time ago, maybe."
Nothing ever came of it, but I learned that once you make that connection with somebody, it never goes away. I always criticized Kirk Fordice for dumping the wife everybody in Mississippi loved for the girl who dumped him back in high school. Maybe I was too harsh. Maybe there's an old magic there that's pretty hard to break.
I tell young men I meet now that they should never approach anyone unless they've been properly introduced. That includes those times when a gentleman is trying to meet another gentleman. Having that common recommendation protects you both, and that's how you find out their nickname is "Spooky" before anything happens.
