Belly-up Beetle

Curtis drove the Volkswagen, 1969 vintage Beetle. Smoking George, his wing man, brought the weed. They’d met their dates at a party. Stacy and Camille went to San Leandro High. Curtis and George went to Castro Valley. Curtis liked Camille. George got Stacy. They all partied at a friend of a friend’s house in Oakland… Continue reading Belly-up Beetle

Afternoon Delight: Read All About It

(The Worst Wait for a Date) If you were in eighth grade and you had a weekly afternoon paper route delivering the Detroit News in Saginaw, Michigan, and you rode your red Schwinn bicycle with the basket to do your route and then rode it again on collection day, what would your fantasy be? If… Continue reading Afternoon Delight: Read All About It

Do the Hustle

Guido met Marsha at a famous bar called Rex and Eric’s in Waikiki. He lived locally. She was on vacation. He’d put on his five gold chains, unbuttoned his billowy polyester shirt with the big collar to reveal just enough chest hair, stepped into a pair of black high-waisted pants that hugged his tight butt,… Continue reading Do the Hustle

Why So Many First Worsts

In scrounging around for a first-worst-date story this week (after all, I’ve already done my own dates from Ames, Omaha, and Walnut Creek – how many first-worsts can one person have?), I discovered something. I hate some of my friends, the ones who’ve never had a bad date, ever. First there is Jim, whom I… Continue reading Why So Many First Worsts