And so, Ladies and Gentlemen...

What do I write about at this stage?

She walked in and some of us revelled in the terrific irony that those she had come to impress were no longer in the hall. Grand entrances should be well timed and let's be honest, she had got it all wrong.

Looking back, as you will have noticed I tend to do, I can no longer recall her face, nor can I recall any of the speeches that were given on any given night. What I do recall is how important these nights were for so many of us. Not because it was a chance to meet girls but because it was a chance not to meet girls.

The lads who left the debate early had a particular gift. Very often this gift was confined to the fact that they were good looking and grls liked them. They could 'chat-up' girls very easily because girls spent their time approaching them so that they too could look cool. I don't deny that I was jealous of those students and perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind that jealousy lingers. I wasn't the best looking guy in the school and, as I have shown earlier, I was incapable of talking to any girl.

The important thing was that I was not alone and the Friday night debates proved this. Those of us who got excited about the girls schools coming to town had all the insecurities of a security guard carrying a fistful of diamonds through one of the better parts of Cork city at 2am on a Thursday morning. However, ,we still had one skill that so many of the cools didn't have. The ability to talk in front of a crowd and not get embarrassed.

When the speakers on the floor had finished their attempts at convincing us that what they said was true the real debate began. One by one, the nerds would stand up and say their piece. This didn't happen in any random fashion. There was a hierarchy and we all know our place within it. It allowed those of us who were new to the discipline to watch the old pros before standing up to have our say. The statements were sharp, the humour pointed and the insults well-aimed. The audience would wake-up and the atmosphere became somthing almost tangible. As the adrenaline flowed for those thirty minutes or so, it was easy to forget that one was not the best looking or most popular in the room because one could create an alternative persona and hide behind it in public. For those thirty minutes we were alive, we were heard and most importantly of all we were the centre of attention. And we had no hair gel!

When the vote was taken it was all over. We became faceless creatures once again and blended seamlessly into our surroundings. What I remember now is that the really important part of the evening began although I did not realise it at the time. The few of us who shared the same interests and inhibitions would slowly make our way towards the city centre. I suppose we walked slowly so that we could savour the last morsels of whatever magic had enveloped us earlier in the evening. We talked excitedly about the most clever of statements that had been made and without ever requesting it, we informed one another of her reaction to each and every one. Then we went for a burger and chips, laughed some more and took the bus home.

By Monday the debate woud be old news except for those of us who were there to order the meal with a Coke. We had not gone, nor had, as yet, any desire to attend the teenage discos that were held around the city on Saturday night. We would smile at the stories we were told about the cools and their gang and secretly wish that we had been ready to take that first big step into discoland.

Which leads me to my next point...