Summary

In the 1980s, a young boy named Joey experiences confusion and concern from his mother as he begins receiving calls from girls at home, leading to her unfounded worries about the implications of these interactions.

Abstract

The narrative recounts a humorous and nostalgic reflection on the societal norms and parental anxieties of the mid-1980s, as seen through the lens of a 12-year-old boy named Joey. His mother is perplexed and alarmed by the unexpected phone calls he receives from girls, challenging her traditional views on gender roles and courtship. Despite her protective instincts and Catholic beliefs, which lead her to view these female callers as "aggressive" and inappropriate, Joey's adult life reveals a different path, as he grows up to be happily gay. The story is a lighthearted take on generational misunderstandings and the unfounded fears of a mother trying to navigate the changing social landscape of her son's adolescence.

Opinions

The mother holds traditional views, believing that boys should initiate contact with girls, and is suspicious of the girls calling her son.
She is concerned about the moral and sexual implications of these interactions, fearing they might lead her son down a path of debauchery.
The mother's protective stance is influenced by her Catholic faith, which shapes her perception of appropriate social behavior for her son.
Joey, on the other hand, seems to enjoy the attention and friendship from his female classmates, indicating a more modern and relaxed view of cross-gender friendships.
The author reflects on his mother's worries with humor and affection, acknowledging the irony that her fears were unfounded, as he later identifies as gay.
The story suggests a subtle critique of the overprotectiveness and outdated gender expectations that can arise from a generational gap and religious conservatism.

HUMOR | LIFE

Invasion of the Aggressive Girls

What’s a virginal good little boy to do?

The phone rings, mid-1980s.

Landline. Rotary phone.

No caller ID. No answering machine or voicemail.

Probably not even call-waiting yet.

A time when it took backbone to answer the phone, to deal with whatever sweetness or BS is ready to greet you after the word, “Hello?”

Hi, is Joe there? Can I speak to Joe?

It’s a female voice, and this gives my mother pause.

“Just a moment. May I ask who’s calling?”

My 12-year-old body approaches the phone and mom’s frowning face.

“It’s for you, Joey — some girl, Amy from school?”

I’m overjoyed — more fun chatter about Amy’s hot mess dating life even at age 12. A friend seeking me out, after years of no real friends to connect with.

Afterwards —

“What did she want?” Mom asks, protective and suspicious. “Couldn’t she wait until you got to school to talk to you again?”

The next year, I’m now age 13, the phone rings again. It’s Darlene.

After another meaningful and lengthy conversation, mom approaches me.

“I’m not happy about these girls — these aggressive girls — calling the house all the time.”

I tried to shrug it off.

“Girls are not supposed to call boys. In my day, the boys did the calling, and we were all a lot older. Why are all these girls calling you? It’s just not appropriate. Do their mothers know they’re calling a boy?”

I was her first-born, and as a Catholic mum she apparently needed to protect me from the ravages and very real dangers that could befall a young lad of 13 at the hands of these young vixens.

It’s not like I was some hot, sexy catch. What was it she thought these girls wanted from her little nerdy angel son?

**I was like a walking Napoleon Dynamite before that was even a thing** | Photo by Joe Guay

Those aggressive, mature girls were no good, a path to apparent wanton destruction and gnashing of teeth, to destitution and debauchery. A one-way trip to no-longer-a-virgin town! Oh, how she probably prayed. The novenas! The rosaries.

So mom, you got your way. It worked.

I’m happily gay and sleeping with men now.

Actually one man in particular, for years. But a man, nonetheless.

Yummy.

Ooooh, all the years, decades now, that mom has kinda secretly been hoping for the return of the girls into her little Joey’s life.

Aggressive girls?… please!?? ANY girls??

Alas.

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