The most awkward
time in anybody's life is the period of time between high school graduation and
their 21st birthday. Too old for High School girls, too young for
the clubs.
In the 1960’s to
occupy our minds and libido’s Steve and I would cruise Colorado Boulevard,
circle through Bob’s Big Boy, searching for loose girls in the same doldrums.
It was this age
group that ignited drive-through restaurants, window mounted takeout trays, and
car hops in the first place. Bob’s Big Boy was a great place to fish for girls
using a hot looking car, as bait. Like us, the girls were waiting for the
magical age when they could hit the many clubs.
Spending a year
creating a fire engine red, custom 55 Chevy Coupe with a huge motor and loud
pipes barking for occasional street race which was sure to impress the girls.
If we they were in the car, they liked to look out the rear window at the car in
our dust.
It worked like
this, if we caught their attention at Bob’s we would meet down Colorado
Boulevard. It was standing outside talking and looking at the traffic. If we
all got along, it was a short drive to my apartment for some beer, wine, music,
low lights, and perhaps a toke or two on my water pipe.
One Wednesday
night sticks in my mind.
“Steve it is like
a ghost town.”
“Yeah, this is
unreal, It’s dead everywhere.”
Something was not quite right in Pasadena. You
could pull right into Bob’s and get a station.
“This is like
Twilight Zone.”
“Yeah.”
“Look out for
the chain!”
Slamming the
breaks on, causing an audible screech from the tires.
“Steve, you’re an
idiot, what chain?”
After my heart
started we made a few circles into and out of Bob’s stretching our necks to see
if there was anyone around of interest.
“Where is
everyone?”
“Not around here.”
We finely pulled into
a station around 10 PM ordering a burger and a Coke, hopeful a couple of girls
would find us. No such luck.
“Ed why don’t we
call this a loss, and get some sleep?”
“Yeah, good idea.”
I pulled over to
the curb in front of Steve’s house.
“Are we set for
Friday?”
“Yeah, pick me up
around eight.”
“Bye.”
“Later.”
Steve opened the
door and popped out. I watched as he walked up his drive way and punched my car
spinning the tires. On the following Friday night I picked up Steve. He jumped
in the car and we took off heading for Pasadena. He started a very unusual
conversation.
"Ed, you
won't believe the dream I had Wednesday night."
"What?"
"I opened the
door after you dropped me off on Wednesday and Walt Disney himself in flesh and
blood was sitting in the living room talking to my mother about his career as a
cartoonist. Walt indicated he was looking for me and offered to take me to Disneyland
as his special guest. It was awesome. The limo ride, the whole park was kept open
just for me. Everything was on Walt. We had dinner at club 33, all the rides,
and a back lot tour. Wow, what an evening."
"Well, I'm
glad you had a good time. When I got home I had a real dilemma.”
“What was that?”
“As I pulled into my parking space, I noticed
a strange car in the spot next to me with cigarette smoke coming from the front
windows. I got out of my car, and Rachel called out my name.”
“I’m sure you
remember Rachel and Sandi from a couple weeks ago. They were both in the car waiting
for us."
"Yeah, I
think…I remember them. They're both were hot and from San Gabriel high.
“Yeah, you got
them pegged.”
“We sat around
your apartment, drank some beer and they liked to smoke pot. I think it was
their first time.”
“Steve, it was
clear they were waiting for us. They were looking to connect and smoke some
more pot. I think they really got loose the first time we were with them.
Rachel mentioned something about continuing from where we left off. With you at
home, three was not going to happen for any of us, so I sent them along.”
"For Christ-sakes
Ed, why did you give me a call? I could have been there before you finished
half a beer. I mean…I could turn into a flash."
"I did shit-head,
but your mother said you were at Disneyland."
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