I had already graduated from high school. My sister hadn’t yet. It was Veterans’ Day, just as it is today. School was closed, but they were holding rehearsals for a school play and my sister was on the stage crew. My Dad wasn’t feeling well, so he asked me to drive over to the school that night and pick my sister up from the rehearsal.
In those days, pay phones had been invented, but cell phones hadn’t. In that school the pay phones could be locked up and they were when I got there. So, unable to phone her parents to pick her up, a girl I knew named Rita was walking around the stage saying, “Who’s got room in their car?”
I said, “I do, Rita.”
She said, “Good, you can take us home.” Us turned out to be Rita and another girl named Karen; a petite, cute, blonde girl named Karen. Rita and Karen were on the stage crew with my sister. So, three girls and I went out to my car. My sister got in the front seat, Rita and Karen got in the back.
I took my sister home first. She’s four years younger than I am, so I got to stay up later. At least that’s what I told the two girls in the back seat, neither of whom was willing to sit up front with me after I dropped my sister off.
Rita told me to take her home next, so I did. Karen still would not join me in the front seat. While driving the couple of blocks from Rita’s house to Karen’s, I decided it would be an extraordinarily good idea to go see that play the following Saturday night, I don’t remember anything about the play. I may not have remembered anything about the play halfway through the second act. I had no interest whatsoever in the play.
But Karen and Rita invited me to the cast party which was at my ex-girlfriend’s house, so I knew how to get there. In fact, I was the only person driving to the party who did know how to get there, so I led a caravan through town. This time, Karen did sit in the front, between me and my ex-girlfriend. In back were my sister, Karen’s friend Rita, and my ex-girlfriend’s best friend, Sue. I had warned (or perhaps threatened) my sister about sitting in the front seat again.
All this sounds harmless, right? So why is the tale cautionary? Well, not right away, but I eventually married Karen. I’ve just recounted how we met on the anniversary of the day we met. So, I’d like to take this opportunity to warn all petite, cute, blonde girls to think at least twice before accepting a ride from a strange boy.
Strange boys become strange men. We’re all basically the same.