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all we did was kiss a lot. I never got to touch a breast, except in my dreams which were pretty much all the time.
I must've had a car in college because I drove to work at Pizza Pete's and other places, but I can't remember what it was. I have a vivid image of my first ride in a VW Beetle though, and I couldn't believe how small it was. Basically a motorized roller skate that could fit into small spaces. I grew up in Detroit, so I knew it was just an oddity and would never last. I'm right on top of these trends.
The first time I touched a breast was in a car, with a girl who was a college fraternity queen, and I assumed my life had peaked. I don't remember the car, but I sure remember the breast.
But now we come to the good part.
My dad was adventurous and he bought a bright red Austin-Healey 100-6. He drove it for awhile and then bought a Porsche 911, also red. I was in the army at the time and my dad asked if I wanted the Healey. Was he kidding? Of course I did and we worked out a payment plan. I don't remember how I got it down to Fort Ord, but I was the only private there with a bright red sports car who was stationed at the golf course and sang in a bar in Monterey. I was not living under the radar.
Maybe there was some resentment. At Fort Ord, when we were clerks, we all issued ourselves two passes. One stayed at headquarters and we carried the other one with us at all times. This eliminated the need to sign in and out, and we thought we were pretty clever. I did too, until one day I drove onto the base, showed my pass to the guard at the gate, and he said, "We're going to check to make sure you signed out."
Busted.
I figured I was AWOL and looking at time in the stockade. I sat there for at least 15 minutes before he came out and said, "Okay, you're good to go."
I almost said, "What?" But I kept my mouth shut and drove on. A couple days later a clerk friend said, "Did we give you a little scare?"
It turned out he was on duty when the guard called and he figured out what was going on. He knew I hadn't signed out and would be sweating bullets, so he told the guard to hang on while he checked the roster. Then he smoked a leisurely cigarette and came back to say, yeah, I'd signed out. The bastard! All the clerks thought it was quite funny.
I loved the Healy. I loved to take it on the twisty roads around Monterey and play race car driver. After I got out of the army I stayed in Monterey and kept playing at the Mission In la Cantina. I also did odd gigs around town, including the grand opening of Becky's Burger Pit (on a flatbed truck with the band from the Warehouse). Obviously I was just inches from the big time.
One time I was speeding down one of the roads, top down, squealing through the curves, and a cop pulled me over. Damn. He came up and said,