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So, I lied. I told her that it wasn't just Ryan, but also another guy named Daniel (real name) who'd be going with us, and I said we'd be going to Starbucks (another local hang out) rather than a golf course. I said they'd come over to pick me up and she said fine.
My mom was a stickler for teenagers driving. So, when they (and by they, I mean it was literally just Ryan) came to get me, my mom watched at the window to see if he was driving responsibly. But as he was about to turn in the direction of Starbucks, he went the opposite way.
Another fun fact in our house was that, after an incident when my sister was 11 where we "colluded" on a lie, if one sister colluded with the other to trick my mom, we both received the same punishment.
So, while my mom was frantically calling and texting me (my phone was on silent), she went up to my little sister and was like "WHERE IS SARAH" which she initially said "I don't know" to, but ultimately caved in fear of said punishment system (I don't know why I even told her).
Meanwhile, I arrive at the golf course, no more than 7 minutes later. I finally take my phone out of my pocket when I set down and see approximately 24 missed calls and 30 texts from my mom and I pretty much shit myself.
Let me remind you that I'm not actually great friends with Ryan, we know each other just okay. So I embarrassingly tell him my mom's pissed and I need to go home (we've been away from the house for no more than 15 minutes at this point) and explain that I lied about where I was.
Now, let me set the scene: It's dark, maybe 7/8pm and my house is at the bottom of a small hill on the corner of our street where there happens to be a streetlamp. (May I just say that my heart is racing telling this story rn)
So, Ryan and I pull up to the house, and I'm already riddled with anxiety because I know I'll eat shit inside. But, wait, what's that in the distance as we drive down the hill? That's right: My mother is standing outside, in the light of the streetlamp, waiting for our arrival.
We park outside the house. My mom, in Greek, hisses at me "don't say a word and go inside right now" and I go in. I immediately run upstairs, out of my mind, and go into a closet where I call a friend and repeatedly say "my life is over" and literally go into the fetal position.
My mom, meanwhile, is absolutely reaming Ryan, with "what are you thinking taking a sophomore girl to the golf course at night?", "you know I know your parents, do they know where you are?" which, according to her, he painfully mumbled through until she allowed him to crawl away.
I can't remember what happened when she came in, but I'm almost certain I wasn't formally punished beyond just getting my phone taken away for that one night. The real punishment would take place on Monday, when it felt like the entirety of my school mocked me for what happened.
And that was it. I was literally never punished again because I was scared shitless of the creative humiliation that might come with it (also, I was mostly a good kid anyways). My mom is incredibly proud of her streetlamp move and still brags about it to this day.
Oh yeah: Ryan and I never spoke again.
It's also worth noting that my mom is an outstanding mom who mostly was not stood under streetlamps. I even have a story coming out tomorrow about our relationship and her parenting so stay tuned folks
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