Teach
12-31-2015, 08:19 PM
We went to the Ice Capades. The old Boston Garden. New Year’s Eve. 1968-69. Little did I know - at the time - that I’d be married a little over six months later…but not to the woman I had dated that night.
My date. That night. I met her through computerized dating. She lived with her parents. A section of Boston called Hyde Park. Her home was a stone’s throw from my old Boston neighborhood. She was pretty. Tall. Dark-complected.
I “doubled” that night. My friend’s date lived twenty miles west of Boston. We took separate cars. We met at "The Garden" for the ice show. Great seats. Close to the ice.
After the show, we each headed for our respective cars. I tried to start my Dodge Polara. Click-click-click. Sheight! It wasn’t that cold, but if I were more attentive, I would have noticed that my car’s electrical system was going downhill.
Well, I told my date to sit in the car (leave the window slightly open). I was going over to Causeway Street to look for a gas station. Found one. One problem. Attendant was alone. Just pumping gas. No mechanic. Ouch! Plan B.
I rushed back to my car. I told my date that I couldn’t get a mechanic to jump-start my car. We walked back to Causeway Street and hailed a cab. Thankfully, my Kenmore Square apartment wasn’t that far away.
About ten or fifteen minutes later we arrived at my apartment. My buddy and his date were already waiting for us in their car. They had gone – according to plan - to a nearby Chinese restaurant to get "take out". After my date and I arrived, my buddy told me he was worried. Had something happened? An accident? He didn’t know where we had gone. I filled him in.
Upstairs to my second-floor studio apartment, all 250 square feet. My buddy put the Chinese on paper plates. I fixed us some ryes and ginger. I remember I also had some whiskey sour mix. About a half-hour later, the four of us watched the ball drop from the Allied Chemical building in Times Square. 5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year! Everyone wished each other a Happy New Year. Let the kissing and petting begin.
This went on for about another twenty to twenty-five minutes.
As I recall, it was probably around 12:30 a.m. that my buddy said that he had a long drive ahead in both taking his date home and then doubling back to Boston. He then suggested that he would be happy to take my date with him as I didn’t have a “set of wheels”.
Well, uncharacteristically and abruptly, I said, “No, she’s staying with me.” My friend then looked at me with his quizzical stare. Seconds later he was out the door and headed west to take his date home.
My date (I’ll call her Barbara) and I then proceeded to dance to some slow-dance type records. A short time later, my date excused herself to use my bathroom. I recall that at the time I was sitting on my sofa in my postage-stamp living room. When my date came out of the lav, she immediately proceeded to give me a lap dance. It was “all air,” but even so, it was quite unexpected. We proceeded to kiss and hug.
Well, at this time, about 1 a.m., I told my date to call her parents. I had originally thought of giving her cab fare; there was no other way that I could have gotten her home. It was then that I said to myself, “What the heck”. Yes, it was only our second date; yet I asked her if she wouldn’t mind sleeping over. She said, “Yes, I’ll stay here.” I immediately told Barbara to call her parents. She did.
So, here we are. My apartment. All alone. It’s the kind of situation guys dream about. A lovely, curvaceous, buxom female. I’m frothing at the mouth. Yet, deep down, I’m worried about my car. Will it be there when I go back to the Boston Garden the next morning? On New Year’s Day, can I find someone to start it? Although I’m in a beautiful situation, deep-down I’m worried sick.
As I recall, we got undressed. Yet, I let Barbara get undressed privately in the bathroom. I remember I gave her a pair of my pajamas. In hindsight, I wish I had let her put on “The Show”. I know it would have been titillating. Salacious. You get the picture. But I didn’t.
Oh, we "petted" for a while. Things were getting a little serious. It was then that Barbara said to me, “I’m a virgin”. Maybe some guys would have been excited by the thought of carnal knowledge with a virgin, but I wasn’t one of them. I knew in my heart of hearts that I wasn’t going to marry this woman. She was pleasant enough, but… Besides, the thought of my car in the Boston Garden parking lot was weighing on my mind.
The next day, I got up early. I fixed us some coffee and then took a cab back to the Boston Garden. I did get someone to jump-start my car. I then drove back to my apartment. By this time, it was almost 10:00 a.m. I left my car running and went upstairs to get Barbara. She was already dressed. I drove back to her parents home.
Well, I must say that when I walked in and again met her parents, I felt quite sheepish. I felt like saying, “Nothing happened.” I don’t know if they would have believed me, but that was the truth. I remember staying for a while and saying good-bye. I remember kissing Barbara. That would be the last time I would ever see her. Oh, she did call me over a month later, mid-February, but, by that time... You see the woman I had been seeing all along - my wife now of nearly 47 years – well, we had had a spat. I didn’t take her out that New Year’s Eve. Yet, we reconciled right after the first of the year. We became engaged on Valentine's Day, 1969.
As for my car, my mechanic replaced my alternator. I believed he also installed a new battery. I was good to go.
As I think back, that New Year’s Eve, 1968-69 was certainly most memorable. Shows you the kind of mundane life I’ve been living.
My date. That night. I met her through computerized dating. She lived with her parents. A section of Boston called Hyde Park. Her home was a stone’s throw from my old Boston neighborhood. She was pretty. Tall. Dark-complected.
I “doubled” that night. My friend’s date lived twenty miles west of Boston. We took separate cars. We met at "The Garden" for the ice show. Great seats. Close to the ice.
After the show, we each headed for our respective cars. I tried to start my Dodge Polara. Click-click-click. Sheight! It wasn’t that cold, but if I were more attentive, I would have noticed that my car’s electrical system was going downhill.
Well, I told my date to sit in the car (leave the window slightly open). I was going over to Causeway Street to look for a gas station. Found one. One problem. Attendant was alone. Just pumping gas. No mechanic. Ouch! Plan B.
I rushed back to my car. I told my date that I couldn’t get a mechanic to jump-start my car. We walked back to Causeway Street and hailed a cab. Thankfully, my Kenmore Square apartment wasn’t that far away.
About ten or fifteen minutes later we arrived at my apartment. My buddy and his date were already waiting for us in their car. They had gone – according to plan - to a nearby Chinese restaurant to get "take out". After my date and I arrived, my buddy told me he was worried. Had something happened? An accident? He didn’t know where we had gone. I filled him in.
Upstairs to my second-floor studio apartment, all 250 square feet. My buddy put the Chinese on paper plates. I fixed us some ryes and ginger. I remember I also had some whiskey sour mix. About a half-hour later, the four of us watched the ball drop from the Allied Chemical building in Times Square. 5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year! Everyone wished each other a Happy New Year. Let the kissing and petting begin.
This went on for about another twenty to twenty-five minutes.
As I recall, it was probably around 12:30 a.m. that my buddy said that he had a long drive ahead in both taking his date home and then doubling back to Boston. He then suggested that he would be happy to take my date with him as I didn’t have a “set of wheels”.
Well, uncharacteristically and abruptly, I said, “No, she’s staying with me.” My friend then looked at me with his quizzical stare. Seconds later he was out the door and headed west to take his date home.
My date (I’ll call her Barbara) and I then proceeded to dance to some slow-dance type records. A short time later, my date excused herself to use my bathroom. I recall that at the time I was sitting on my sofa in my postage-stamp living room. When my date came out of the lav, she immediately proceeded to give me a lap dance. It was “all air,” but even so, it was quite unexpected. We proceeded to kiss and hug.
Well, at this time, about 1 a.m., I told my date to call her parents. I had originally thought of giving her cab fare; there was no other way that I could have gotten her home. It was then that I said to myself, “What the heck”. Yes, it was only our second date; yet I asked her if she wouldn’t mind sleeping over. She said, “Yes, I’ll stay here.” I immediately told Barbara to call her parents. She did.
So, here we are. My apartment. All alone. It’s the kind of situation guys dream about. A lovely, curvaceous, buxom female. I’m frothing at the mouth. Yet, deep down, I’m worried about my car. Will it be there when I go back to the Boston Garden the next morning? On New Year’s Day, can I find someone to start it? Although I’m in a beautiful situation, deep-down I’m worried sick.
As I recall, we got undressed. Yet, I let Barbara get undressed privately in the bathroom. I remember I gave her a pair of my pajamas. In hindsight, I wish I had let her put on “The Show”. I know it would have been titillating. Salacious. You get the picture. But I didn’t.
Oh, we "petted" for a while. Things were getting a little serious. It was then that Barbara said to me, “I’m a virgin”. Maybe some guys would have been excited by the thought of carnal knowledge with a virgin, but I wasn’t one of them. I knew in my heart of hearts that I wasn’t going to marry this woman. She was pleasant enough, but… Besides, the thought of my car in the Boston Garden parking lot was weighing on my mind.
The next day, I got up early. I fixed us some coffee and then took a cab back to the Boston Garden. I did get someone to jump-start my car. I then drove back to my apartment. By this time, it was almost 10:00 a.m. I left my car running and went upstairs to get Barbara. She was already dressed. I drove back to her parents home.
Well, I must say that when I walked in and again met her parents, I felt quite sheepish. I felt like saying, “Nothing happened.” I don’t know if they would have believed me, but that was the truth. I remember staying for a while and saying good-bye. I remember kissing Barbara. That would be the last time I would ever see her. Oh, she did call me over a month later, mid-February, but, by that time... You see the woman I had been seeing all along - my wife now of nearly 47 years – well, we had had a spat. I didn’t take her out that New Year’s Eve. Yet, we reconciled right after the first of the year. We became engaged on Valentine's Day, 1969.
As for my car, my mechanic replaced my alternator. I believed he also installed a new battery. I was good to go.
As I think back, that New Year’s Eve, 1968-69 was certainly most memorable. Shows you the kind of mundane life I’ve been living.