It was our usual weekday morning of bore-your-socks-off school assembly with one integral difference – GUYS. (Be still, my beating heart.) But haste, before we got a chance to wallow in our sudden good fortune we realised that the happy little group of blazer-wearing members of the opposite sex sitting in the front row were choirboys. I soon discovered that that did not deter some of our more… how shall I say it, hormonal counterparts from checking them out. Although there wasn’t anything there to check out. Naturally. (I’m sorry, but choirboys? The stigma alone would be enough to kill off any potential hotness.) So before they even opened their mouths there was already an air of barely suppressed laughter circulating through the hall. You have to hand it to them though, sitting smack-bang in the front of a crowd of a thousand-odd staring girls wouldn’t have been comfortable at the best of times.

When they got u on the stage a guy I presumed was the head choirboy announced that the two songs they would be singing for us today were – and I kid you not – Boyz II Men’s “I Swear” and “I Feel the Earth Move (Under My Feet)”.

And oh my god, the poor things. As soon as they lapsed into an almost spot-on but slightly more masculine imitation of boy-band harmony everyone was cacking themselves. And the lyrics! It was like the worst song of cheesy pick-up lines that you could possibly sing if you did not wish to be ridiculed off the stage. At that point my features were frozen into a mask of incredulous horror as line after line of “I swear by the moon and the stars in the sky” floated by my head. The singing was okay, though nothing to write home about, but the song itself… I never thought it would be possible for a song to be as dreadfully corny as it was. But alas, the boys had not finished utterly humiliating themselves. No, ladies and gentlemen – it was time for “I Feel the Earth Move”.

With actions.

At first it sounded like minor-key funeral march music and we were all like, what the hell? And then…

“I feel the Earth, *CLICK* move, *CLICK* UNDER MY FEET!” AND then they started clapping like a black gospel choir AND then they did the grapevine AND the spirit fingers AND the Broadway end-of-show arm spread AND the hand on beating heart AND the John Travolta Saturday Night Fever AND the spins AND the finger clicking. I could feel my face slowly going red as I furiously struggled with the effort of keeping my features straight and snorts of mirth from escaping. People all around me were laughing openly. I turned around and caught the eye of JV and I just burst out laughing and couldn’t stop. Meanwhile the poor chaps on the stage looked absolutely miserable in comparison with their “gay and sprightly” actions. I couldn’t blame them; I would have too in their shoes. It was like the time last year when one song called for us to make idiotic echoey noises and beat our mouths like Indians. But ten times more mortifying. I felt so embarrassed on their behalf. But hell, it sure did make my day.

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