When I was in 8th Grade at St. Patrick's Grammar School in Larkspur, California, there was boy in 6th Grade whose parents owned a cabaret club/high-end orange juice restaurant. I realize this makes all of your Marin stereotypes clang with enthusiasm, but that's they way it was.
Anyway, he was in his 6th Grade class of 25 kids and I was in my 8th Grade of 25 kids, but we knew OF each other. The weird kids always know OF each other.
One day there was a knock at the 8th Grade classroom door. It was during the holidays, or graduation. It was a day when regular school wasn't in session, there was a rare casual vibe at St. Pat's.
This particular 6th Grader was at our door, and he said to Miss Diaz, "I'm looking for Beth Spotswood. I understand she knows how to tie a necktie."
Miss Diaz (that's a whole other story) politely looked up and said, "Beth. This young man needs your help."
We must have all been on our way to a special mass or concert. And this kid had arrived at school with an untied necktie. I knew how to tie a tie, and this news had clearly gotten around. Anyway, I walked into the hallway, we stood against the concrete walls, I asked about his parents' cabaret shows, and I tied his tie.
I remember when I was knotting that Windsor, he said, "I like you."
And I said right back, "I like you too."
Because how could you not like that kid.
Lo these years later, this is that kid: