Julie and her friend, Denise, went to the Rusty Pelican on Friday night. It was their go-to hang-out. But lately it had been heavy on girls’ night-out groups and light on eligible men. Would it be the same old, same old kind of night, or would Julie finally meet a datable man? She’d fluffed and buffed, hired a sitter, and ironed her best pair of sparkly jeans.
Inside the front door, the band was just setting up for its gig. Julie and Denise chose a cozy corner table with a good view of the entire room. They ordered their usual cranberry and vodka’s. When the two tall guys at the bar sent over a round of drinks, both Julie and Denise zeroed in on the cute guy, not his less attractive friend. They came over, the handsome one doing the talking. Denise invited the guys to join them at their table, and the foursome spent the next three hours drinking and dancing. At the end of the night, both guys gave both girls their phone numbers, and vice versa. One was Steve, and the other was Bob.
The next morning Steve called and asked Julie on a date. Was he the cute one or the taller not-so-cute one? She wasn’t sure, but she said yes.
When the doorbell rang, she peeked out the window and saw the sports car. Which one had said he drove a 280Z? She opened the door, hoping for the good looking guy. He was six foot four, the high school basketball coach – the other one. He led her to his lemon colored dream car. When she got in, she noticed the back seat was filled with dirty clothes. It wasn’t until she had buckled her seatbelt that she picked up on the smell. Like the boy’s locker room where he coached the varsity team, Coach’s backseat reeked.
When Coach suggested that they go to Oakland for a drink, Julie plugged her nose at the thought of riding in the smelly sock mobile for twenty miles.
When the coach suggested they have their second drink in San Francisco, Julie gagged at the thought of another eleven miles of breathing foot sweat.
It was thirty miles back to Danville. At least the top had been down on the way to the city. Now it was up since there was a chill in the night air. The stink permeated the car, both front and back, and Julie’s nose. The combo of two drinks on an empty stomach and the nauseating aroma was making Julie’s stomach flip.
As the date was came to an end, Julie managed to survive several miles of body and foot odor-embedded laundry without puking. As the conversation waned, she reflected on the night before — been so much fun with the two guys, a potential relationship, and the possibilities that lay ahead. Now she had a slight buzz from the two drinks, a nose full of locker sweat, and a big guy with a big crush on her.
At her door, Coach moved in for the kiss, and Julie deflected. The kiss landed on her cheek, and when he asked her for a second date, she made up an excuse of having to wash her hair and having no sitter for her son.
Coach never called again, and Julie never rode in another lemon yellow stinky sock mobile.
Couldda Wouldda Shouldda
If Julie could’ve gotten past the stink sock smell, she and Hans would’ve dated, fallen in love, gotten married, and raised their own little basketball team together.