Whenever I look back at my life, peering through the cloudy haze of memory and beer-induced brain damage, I find that my memories are better than what reality probably offered.  The colors are brighter, the smells are sweeter.  For instance, when I scored my first ever goal in soccer I can hear the deafening roar of the crowd in my mind, even though there was only a homeless man asleep beneath the bleachers.  I know that this is probably old man nostalgia taking place as I march towards my 34th birthday.  It happens to everyone.

But trust me when I tell you that the three hottest girls ever created all attended Stillwater High School at the same time in 1994.  Yes, its true.  I was there and remember it perfectly.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present … The Triumvirate.

Ok, I know what some of you Latin scholars must be thinking.  Why are they called the Triumvirate, which as an etymologist will tell you means ‘Of Three Men’.  Three (tri) and Man (vir, as in virile).  The term originates from Ancient Rome with the alliance of three great men.  The first of which was Julius Caesar, Marcus Crassus, and Pompeii.  The second, made more famous by the Shakespearean play, was Octavian aka Augustus Caesar, Marc Antony, and the Ringo Starr of this trio, Marcus Lepidus.  Yes, they were all dudes.  All of them.

I can assure that the Triumvirate that I am referring to from SHS were not He-Shes.  They were not man-boys.  They were not transvestites.  My group of friends noticed the phenomenon of three amazingly succubi-like classmates and we coined the term ourselves.  This is what happens when you give intelligent teenage boys boners.  We start to apply the half-absorbed lessons to alternative, nefarious purposes.  Of course, we thought we were immensely clever.  Perhaps they should instead been called the Triumfeminate … but doesn’t that lose something?

Anyway, back to the Triumvirate …

There’s no explaining it.  How could this happen?  It’d be like Scarlet Johansson and Jessica Alba just happening to be on the same plane as Evangeline Lilly on LOST, surviving the crash, battling the Smoke Monster, and then getting into a mud wrestling contest in bikinis.  I have to side with Locke on this … these things don’t happen by chance.

It’s the greater design.

Perhaps there was some cosmic alignment as Galactus tore apart Norrin Radd’s world (aka Silver Surfer).  Or perhaps Blue-Eyed Baby Jesus came down from Heaven and blessed the blossoming wombs of three Stillwater mothers somewhere around 1975.  Whatever the cause, whatever the reason, three blonde-haired vixens were born into the Stillwater Public School System at the same time.  Each at the height of their powers.

I won’t name the holy trinity of Stillwater’s crowning glory out of respect for the three Chosen Ones, but those of us that were there remember.  I conned my way into Student Council with a speech that could have been written by Triumph the Insult Dog.  It was one of the better career moves I made during high school as it allowed me to attend weekly meetings and even a rope course retreat with the Triumvirate.

I was the forward scout for my group of nerdlings.  Each week I’d come back and report on the hotness and awesomeness exploding all around me as I ate Pizza Shuttle Canadian bacon and pretended to listen to T-Shirt designs for Howdy Week.  I’d share my findings as we played Magic cards in the auditorium or hackey sack in the courtyard.

Whenever we would pass one of the lucky few that had the courage to take one of these beauties on a date (and had a car that didn’t shit out toxic waste from a rusted tail pipe), we’d look at them with a mixture of unbridled hatred, but reverent awe.  These men had scaled the precipice, the North Face.  I remember looking at one of these guys, a year older, searching for whatever mystical quality had enchanted one of the muses of SHS.  I couldn’t see it – he just looked like a tall, skateboard punk.  Maybe it was height.  I was screwed.

I did eventually summon the courage to use the Triumvirate to my advantage.  It was the end of my junior year in high school and I had grand designs on becoming Student Council President.  What better way to score chicks than to be the guy in charge of school T-Shirts and the drink line at parties?  I asked one of the Triumvirate to participate in my presidential skit.  Her job?  Simply wear an evening gown and walk across the stage while I pretended to be James Bond.

You know what?

It worked.

Well, I mean it worked in that I got elected, but being President of Student Council did not reap the rewards that I thought it would.  There were no girls, no dates, nothing.  Let’s be honest, it would have taken a miracle for me to score some trim.  There are numerous stories that my friends like to tell of me “shitting the bed” when I talked to girls with amorous intent.  Shitting the bed is a business term.  It basically means Epic Fail.  I was still a geek, but at least I was King Geek.

At least I witnessed the Triumvirate.