One time a guy with a cool American 70’s car hit on me
and my girlfriend. We were in 9th or 10th grade, around
14, maybe 15 and he was probably 20. We were hanging out and he stopped his
car, double parked it, and talked to us. He stayed in the car and we were by
the curb. I had on high heels and tons of eyeliner and purple pointed
eyeshadow. He was good looking and cool in a Bronx sort of way, long-ish hair,
jeans, sneakers, old school, not down with the new sounds and styles. Not a guy
who was on the new wave, taking risks, trying out new stuff, which could go
either way, from great to terrible. He was just familiar, comfortable. Not
scary to me then, but obviously he was walking in a grey area.
He talked with us for a while about nothing. like kids
do. He was more into her than me. He said that I was too pretty to wear all
that make-up, which was such a turn off, since he clearly he did not get what I
was going for and did not appreciate my style. Then he offered to give us a
ride home. We were less than 2 blocks away from where we were going but we got
into his car. I got into the backseat, she got into the front. It never
occurred to me for a second not to get in.
He indeed drove us the 2 blocks to our destination. I
climbed out first. He lingered a bit saying goodbye to my friend. They might
have even kissed or exchanged numbers. I would have done the same if it was me he had liked. That’s how you did things in broad daylight
with complete strangers. How else was life going to get interesting? Happily, I
lived through those years.
I knew this bass player from when she was a baby, yep. The future is bright.