Strictly NOT Ballroom

Janet Smith

It was our usual Saturday and there we were on the bus on our way to ballroom dancing lessons. My friend and I loved the classes and were coming along just fine. We must have been 10 at the time in 1966. My friend was going on about the new Wimpy bar that had opened in the town and the milk shakes you could get. I suddenly had this impulse to visit it. 'Let's go and try them for ourselves then' I said as we got off the bus. She looked horrified. We were good girls who 'did as we were told'. I think the class cost 1/6 in old money - enough for one of those magic milkshakes and some left over for something equally exciting!

We walked into the Wimpy in awe of everything. This was like nothing we had ever seen before - shiny plastic seats and all the staff dressed in red. The woman who took our order was very nice and friendly. She told us to go sit at the table and she would bring us our milkshakes, and a donut. We sat there staring around us and giggling loudly. We were terrified that somebody we knew would come in and catch us. The lady brought us the drinks and we scoffed them and the donuts greedily. Our faces were covered in sugar but it didn't matter - they were just wonderful. We said thanks and goodbye to the cheery lady at the counter. She waved to us smiling kindly.

We skipped to the bus stop enjoying our sugar rush. The bus arrived and we got on still laughing. Only when we sat down and went to get our tickets did it occur to us. Oh no; we had left our bags in the Wimpy. We immediately burst into floods of tears, we would be found out. The conductress took pity on us and let us leave at the first stop. We ran all the way back and there was our friendly lady waiting for us, bags in hand and still smiling. We both started crying again and explained to her the terrible thing we had done. She laughed and said 'I think you had both better tell your parents what happened and why you are late getting home - honesty is the best policy'.

We did and we were suitably chastised. Somehow we never went back to our ballroom dancing classes, but we did go to the Wimpy when we got our pocket money, but it was never as good as when we were not supposed to be there. . .