Parking Lot Pick-up

Edith and her friend, Laura, were bored. It was Saturday night, and they’d been at their all-girls’ school, Holy Names, for a whole week. It was time to find some guys, to find a party.
They pulled into Berkeley and headed for Fraternity Row. Laura spotted someone she had dated before and rolled down the window.
“Need a ride, Dick?” she called to the guy on the sidewalk.
“Sure!” he said.
Dick jumped in the backseat, and Laura joined him. Edith drove over to Bowles Men’s Hall parking lot, and a water balloon came down on her father’s blue Studebaker.
Then out strutted a guy who said, “Hey you can’t park here!”
“Hold your horses!”” Agnes said. “We’re just dropping off a guy who lives here.”
“Oh?” he said. “It’s my job to keep out the riff raff.”
Edith chatted with the guy, and he asked her where she went to college.
“Holy Dames? I went to Notre Dame high school in L.A.,” he said, revealing that he was also Catholic.
“Holy Names,” Edith said through gritted teeth.
“Hey, whatcha doing in fifteen minutes?” he asked her. “That’s when I get off parking lot duty.”
Suddenly the girls had dates, and they decided to head down to the Bear’s Lair for pizza, beer, and music. There was just one problem when they got there. No one had any money. So they sat on a bench outside. Once the Dixieland Band started playing, the foursome got up to dance right there in front of the place. Soon the band came out the door and encircled them.
After that, Edith drove the guys back to Bowles Hall.
“Hey, do you want to go see Tom Jones with me next weekend?” Bill asked.
“Sure,” said Edith.
One thing led to another, and eighteen months later, they were married.

Couldda Wouldda Didda
It’s been fifty-one years, and it all started with the parking lot pick-up.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s