You might think that after our little adventure that landed us in “jail” that my parents wouldn’t allow me to spend time with a scoundrel such as My Harley Stud. Or that his parents wouldn’t want him seeing a girl that landed him in the “pokey”. Fortunately for us, neither set held a grudge and both held their own child completely responsible for their own bad behavior. As it should be.
But that was middle school stuff. As we moved on into our high school years, we were much
smarter and didn’t get caught more mature. MHS and I dated off and on all throughout high school. Really more off than on. We both dated other people but there was always a strong connection that couldn’t be denied and we remained friends when we weren’t dating. But sometimes when I would see MHS while I was on a date with another boy, I would drop my date’s hand so as not to appear too into him. And other times I would pretend to be even more into my companion than I really was just to see if MHS would be jealous. Years later, MHS confessed to doing the same thing when he saw me.
MHS had one girlfriend with the same first name as mine. I know……..another Smart Mouth Broad. Hard to believe. The other SMB (as if) was a year older than he is. I am a year younger. I remember thinking how cool he was when he told me that he was sending her 18 red roses for her 18th birthday
even though I hated the bitch. Everyone knows that you only send roses by the dozen unless it’s a significant number for a special occasion. (or so I was taught by my US History teacher who sent dozens of roses to Jane Pauley in a lame attempt to gain her attention. – Sucker!)
Another girlfriend was on the gymnastics team with me. We were chatting one day while taking a break or should I say I was being interrogated on all I knew about MHS. I mentioned that I thought he was quite a romantic and illustrated my point with the 18 roses for the 18th birthday story…………………..How was I supposed to know that he had done the same for her 18th birthday? He doesn’t tell me EVERYTHING! PS. My eighteenth birthday……………….no roses.
Dating or just friends, MHS was always there for me. One spring I was riding with two girlfriends when we met up with their boyfriends on motorcycles. Next thing I knew they were on the back of the bikes and throwing me the keys to the car. It was a Datsun B210. A stick shift. I didn’t know how to drive a stick. I yelled this little piece of information to them as they pulled away and I was told, “Live and learn.”
Somehow I made it to the QuikMart where I found MHS. He took me out to the country roads and taught me how to drive a manual transmission. To this very day, I’ve never met a gear shift I couldn’t handle.
The summer before my sophomore year, I was with my cousin in her car. We were doing a little harmless flirting on the CB radio when we were rear-ended at a stoplight (the only one in town) by her boyfriend who was listening in his mom’s car. Again, I was abandoned while she went off with him to fight it out. I was instructed to drive around until she came back. While I did have my learners permit that allowed me to drive with her in the car, I didn’t have a drivers license. Hours went by and still no sight of her. I couldn’t go home because we would both be in trouble that I was driving her car. I couldn’t go to her house or she would be in big trouble. That was when I ran into MHS and the Biker Nazi who were out running off some “bad pizza” before they went home. (Bad pizza was MHS’s excuse for getting sick from teenage drinking)
MHS ditched the Biker Nazi in favor of keeping company with the damsel in distress. He passed out almost as soon as he got in the car but it’s the thought that counts. At least he didn’t get sick.
It’s always an adventure with MHS too. One winter he and the Biker Nazi took the Saint and I sledding…………………….behind his 4wheel drive truck. We actually wore through one of those little metal saucer sleds. But we were having way too much fun to give up. The guys put their heads together and came up with a plan. We went back to MHS’s house and he took the hood off his little brother’s car and VOILA – a sled for two! Don’t try this at home. We’re professionals, you know. We wore helmets. And we only ended up being thrown into a corn field once or twice.
It wasn’t until the summer before my senior year that we finally got together for good. But that is a story for another day.
Catch up on prior episodes:
Always save your work. *wink*