Previously, Part Two: I Just Turned Eleven.
I had No Idea Girls Did Things Like That…
I didn’t have another place to go, so I went to talk to my friend Jay.
Jay was home from college for the summer and working at UPS in Brockton, loading packages.
In high school, he worked for the Sharon Post Office.
Not surprisingly, he wasn’t hired back the following summer.
Jay and I were very different, and that’s what made our friendship work.
He was a soccer player, and I played football.
He did well in high school, and I didn’t care about grades.
We did have a lot in common, too.
We both liked smoking pot, music, partying down the Cape, and chasin' skirt.
He and I did Peyote together once, and that experience created an unbreakable bond.
During the winter of ‘75, I transferred from Norwich University to Boston University, where Jay went.
While on breaks from Norwich, I’d occasionally visit him there and always had great times.
Without the military stuff, it was one big party with lots of girls.
The guys from New York and New Jersey always had the best weed.
It was where I got to smokeSheba-Shebaand momentarily forgot my name and how to drive a car… All his friends were like him, and I wasn’t comfortable there.
After two semesters, I left BU, but Jay and I remained close friends.
When he heard about my housing dilemma, he immediately had an idea.
There was an extra twin bed that was unoccupied I could sleep on.
It didn’t include food, just a place to hang my hat, shower, and sleep.
We were having a blast with the new living arrangement.
Jay’s father, Len, was in his early 40s and a mailman.
A big guy, six foot two, with a big frame.
His thinning brown hair was lightly salted and combed over to one side.
He had medium-length mutton chop sideburns and a classic ’70s mustache.
Because he worked outside, he always had color.
Jay and his younger brother were scared shitless of him.
I could see that.
I was downstairs getting ready to go out and always finished by blow-drying my hair.
It was the disco era, a ’70s thing.
There was a lot of static running vertically, and it pissed him off, and rightfully so.
My girlfriend had to work one night, so I decided to stay in.
Jay asked me if he could use the Falcon to take his girlfriend out.
I asked,“What the fuck happened?
She break up with you?”
“No,“he responded.
“She refused to get in the Falcon.
She said it was an ugly car…”
“Really,“I quipped.
“So my car’s not good enough for your girlfriend?
Maybe you have a little dick.
Because a big dick with an ugly car seems to be working out pretty well for me!
“Then I laughed and admitted the Falcon was a pretty shitty-looking car.
Later in the week, on Friday night, Len let Jay use his Buick Century.
It was a nice-looking car in Royal Blue.
On Saturday morning, Jay told Len what happened, and they walked outside to look at the damage.
Len did not look happy…
Once he saw the door, he went off.
Jay, not so much…
I still worked at Muzi Motors in the body shop, where I learned a few things.
I knew how to fix that dent…
I went into the bathroom and grabbed the family plunger.
I slammed the plunger against the door panel and got a sound bite.
I paused momentarily, then pulled hard, and the dent came out.
I looked up at Len and said,“It’s all set!”
That wouldn’t be the last time I’d piss him off…
To be continued…
It’s not about the car…
*All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental…
