Are whims always poorly thought through?

Than our whim was no exception.  My friend and I flew to Houston, Texas to cash in on the extraordinary growth the sea side town was seeing.  Recently graduated from high school and recent college drop-outs, we thought this would jump start our lives.  So with little more than the shirts on our frames we stepped off the plane into the humid Texas air and took cab to the first used car lot we happened upon.  The dealer seemed a reasonable man and we trusted his opinion, exchanging three hundred cash for and old Buick Wildcat.

We traveled the busy highways in our GM machine looking for any area showing signs of ongoing construction–not a difficult task as homes were rising from ground at every turn.  We parked near the entrance of a large new subdivision, where parcels in every direction boasted freshly poured slabs awaiting wooden frames that would become homes for families flowing into the sprawling city.  We spent the night in Wildcat, my bud in the front seat and me in rear.  Being six foot six, I was unable to fully extend my legs which made for poor sleep, that and the mosquitoes floating through cracked windows.

In the morning we found a service station, sink washed, and brushed teeth.  By afternoon we were hired and assigned to a framing crew.  It was hard, hot, muggy work and living in the Wildcat was less than luxurious.  We found other ways to manage more thorough cleansings one of which was to visit hotel pools and use adjacent showers.  Our approach was to be polite, but “walk in like we owned the joint.”  We found maids in hallways receptive to requests for additional towels and were never rebuffed.  We carried on living by this approach for the better part of two weeks growing more tired with each day’s passing.  And as life sometimes conspires to do, two other inconveniences were placed in our path, one the Buick’s transmission had leaked fluid and affected the transmission’s function rendering the vehicle incapable of going in reverse, and two, the starter solenoid failed requiring us to cross the terminals with a screw driver to start her.  From this point forward we strove to park so our exit could be accomplished by driving forward.

On our third Monday evening we decided to temporarily reduce our discomfort by consuming sufficient quantity of beer to bring about numbness.  I caution others that might follow in our footsteps; this cannot be a long term strategy.  We pulled into a small store whose parking lot provided ample room for U-Turn.  I can’t remember exactly how the conversation started, perhaps a simple request for a light, but we began talking with a couple of guys who had just exited the store.  As it turned out they were from our neck of the woods, that being northeast Ohio.  We exchanged several stories about growing up in that part of the country and along the way told of our current lodging.   “Good old” Ohio boys they were, they invited us over to watch Monday Night Football.  Having detected nothing amiss we accepted, bought our brew, and followed them to their home.

Sitting on a real piece of upholstery in an air conditioned space drinking a cold one and watching football was a slice of true heaven for us and all things said it was a good evening.  At game’s conclusion, my friend and I were readying to leave when one of the guys convinced us to crash on their sectional and book in the morning.  It didn’t take much in the way of convincing and we accepted the offer.

They set us up with a couple of blankets, said good night, and out went the lights.  Out we were as well having not rested well for some time.  Sound asleep I was when gradually awakened by an increasingly firm prodding.  I came to to the sound of our new acquaintance’s whisper.  He conveyed he needed to ask me something, but didn’t want to disturb my friend and beckoned I walk with him.  Even in my fatigued state an alarm bell in my brain started to sound.  I did as he asked, but as I walked I pawed the walls hoping to feel light switch as it was exceedingly dark.  To my fortune I found said switch and when flipped the hallway was brightly illuminated, so much so that each of us had difficulty fully opening our eyes.  As my vision adjusted I was able to see our new friend clad in nothing but birthday suit.

Still blinking he leaned toward me and enquired if I had ever had a BJ, an act a recent president downplayed as not sexual in nature.  Hoping this question was born from some misguided sense of humor or that I heard him wrong, I started laughing and answered question with question; What?  He repeated his original query at which point I could see he was entirely serious.  I’m not appointed to judge one’s choice in gender picked for partner, and strive to be a live and let live guy, but I wasn’t batting from his side of the plate as the naked fellow standing two paces away.  I had long ago chosen the opposite sex for companionship and related activities.  Given so, I simply conveyed a resolute no thank you, turned, exited the hall and woke my bud informing him we were leaving.  He must have seen something in eye or manner and argued not a bit, jumped up, and followed behind.  We popped the hood, started the Buick, and sped down the road by which we came.

As we white-dashed lines rolled by, I explained what went down and we determined Houston a bit too cosmopolitan.  The next day we drove back to the dealership from where we had purchased our ride hoping we might reclaim a few dollars and a trip back to the airport.  As proof the good lord is always keeping an eye out for naive young folk, the man who owned the lot said he had been looking for us for days.  He had forgotten, when signing over title, he had stowed a very valuable set of hub caps in the Wildcat’s trunk.  In fact these caps were worth much more than the vehicle.  He refunded our full purchase price and bid us good luck before pulling away from airport curb.

We flew home and were altogether pleased to be there having satisfied out taste for adventure for some time to come.