When I got to the apartment, my roommate, John Houser,
was there. He came down and, with oohs
and aahs, appropriately paid homage to my new ride. John was a big hunk of a guy, about 6’ 3” and
boyishly handsome. He was also tremendously naïve, occasionally clueless and
was somewhat overweight; consequently, because of his overall appearance and
personality, the brothers had nicknamed him, “Baby Huey”. I took great pleasure in chastising John for
his shortcomings but, more often than not, found myself taking him under my
wing, helping him deal with the realities of the world. Most of the time, he just made me laugh.
“Hey, man, we
gotta go cruisin’ for chicks!”, John sang out, his normal boyish enthusiasm
overcoming the better judgment of studying for his final exam, which was the
next day. Reminding him of this fact
only tempered him slightly. “Well, OK,
but we can at least go to the Holiday House, have a burger and see if any
chicks are there”, he pleaded.
We headed for the Holiday House, a drive-in hamburger
joint in south Austin. Now the most
popular place near campus had the dubious name of The Pig Stand. Depending on who you believed, The Pig Stand
was either named for its pulled pork sandwiches or the type of girls who hung
out there. So the more upscale Holiday
House it was. As we pulled in, the only
empty spot available just happened to be next to a brand new 1966 Pontiac
Tempest. Inside that car were two
girls. The passenger was blonde and the
driver appeared to be a brunette. I couldn't see the driver too well but the blonde was gorgeous and she turned and
smiled at us as I killed my hot engine with throaty pipes and their promise of
power.
“I get the blonde!” Baby Huey gushed, I was certain loud
enough for anyone within a two block radius to hear.
“Sure, John”, I whispered, “but would you mind keeping
that between us”. I could swear I heard
the girls in the Tempest giggling and I blushed red. We kept looking over into their car but still
all I could see was the passenger, who was expertly ignoring our glances.
Finally, I said, “How are you girls tonight?”
The blonde turned and said, “We are doing fine”. She turned back, looking forward, but she was
smiling and so I kept on.
“What are you doing tonight?” I asked, trying to act
casual.
The blonde turned back again and said, “Oh, we are out
cruising in Vicki’s dad’s new car”.
“So what’s your name?” I asked.
“Vicki”, she said.
“Oh, so it is your dad’s new car?” I said, somewhat
confused.
“No, its Vicki’s”, she said.
This was starting to sound like an Abbott and Costello
“Who’s on First” routine, when the driver leaned forward, flashed a brilliant
smile and said, “We are both named Vicki”.
The next sound anyone heard was the thud of my jaw hitting the steering
wheel as I finally recognized the driver as the girl friend of my fraternity
brothers, Ronnie Vaughn….the girl in the green brocade suit!
“Hi!”, I said, again, brilliantly eloquent. Somehow, the appearance of this woman always
reduced my IQ by 30 points. “Vicki
Matthews, right?” I said, feeling fortunate I could remember her last
name.
“That’s right”, she smiled. I started to explain who I was when she
interrupted me, “And you are Jud, right?”
I nodded; absolutely stunned that she remembered me.
“You know these chicks?” John whispered loudly in my ear,
“Oh, man, we've got it made.” I shushed
him and turned my attention back to the ladies.
We made small talk for awhile and I could tell that we weren't doing too
badly. At least we were not like little
puppies, pooping on the carpet.
We got out of our cars and inspected them. I showed ample appreciation for Vicki’s new
car and she returned the favor for my ride.
Then the girls joined us in my car and we ordered hamburgers and
shakes. John, as usual, was in Baby Huey
mode. He was already asking Vicki (last
name Broadus) for a date and she was politely fending him off. Vicki B. was a charming girl, about 5’7” with
naturally almost white blond hair. She
had a really cute figure. This is what
attracted John; however, she was also very sweet. John saw opportunity knocking here and he was
all over it.
Meanwhile, in the front seat, Vicki M. and I were
munching on the best flame-broiled cheeseburger ever cooked. This was the kind of hamburger where the
juices squeezed out the corner of your mouth or made an inappropriate mess on your
shirt while the lightly charred, medium-rare meat tantalized your tongue. I was also finding out that she and Ronnie Vaughn
were no longer dating. Now I saw
opportunity knocking. My approach would
most likely not mirror Baby Huey’s, but I had no less incentive to make a good
impression.
Somehow the conversation turned back to our cars and
Vicki volunteered that she thought her new car could run like the wind or words
to that effect. I politely informed her,
with an air of superiority, a V-8 was always going to outrun a “Slant Six” in a
race. At that moment the gauntlet was
grounded.
We finished our dinner and the girls got in their
vehicle, both sexes trash talking prior to the “race”. Not knowing south Austin that well, Vicki
said to follow her. We drove out to a
deserted section of Manchaca Road. It
was a strip of road with few houses and was dark, long and straight. When we got there we got out of our cars and
agreed to the quarter mile course we would be driving. “Are you sure you want to do this?”, I asked
Vicki.
“You chickening out?” she responded contemptuously.
“I honk my horn three times…on the third we go”, I said,
firmly.
We mounted our vehicles and fired them up. Vicki stabbed at her pedal, revving her
engine as she sat at the starting line, which told me she probably had not done
much drag racing. I put my tachometer
steadily on 3500 RPM and sounded my horn three times.
In my eagerness to back up my boast, I smoked the tires
in first gear and Vicki pulled ahead by a fender length off the starting
line. I saw Vicki B. celebrating, her
long, straight blonde hair flying out the passenger window, as I power-shifted
into second gear. I hit second gear
rubber and the difference between the torque and horsepower of my engine and
Vicki’s started to take control. Third
gear had me with a half-car length lead. My shift into fourth gear and the end
of the quarter had me across our make-shift finish line with a good three
car-lengths on the Pontiac, driven by the fine and, certainly, game Vicki.
We stopped at an intersection and got out of our
cars. John was hooting and hollering in
grand Baby Huey style, which didn't much impress the blonde object of his
affection. I played the gracious
victor. “That’s a really fast car you
have there”, I said.
“Are you kidding, you blew my doors off”, Vicki
said. I took this as an opportunity to
extend the relationship.
“Not really”, I offered, “but maybe we can go to the drag
races some day and watch the real pros do it”.
To my surprise she smiled and said, “You know, I think I
would love that”. LOVE THAT…..not “like
that”…not “O.K., maybe”. The thrill of
victory was just multiplied 10X.
I told Vicki my apartment manager was throwing a party
for the end of summer school and start of fall semester that next Saturday and
I was hoping she would come with me.
“What time” she said instantly.
I fumbled with, “I’ll pick you up at seven”.
“O.K.” she said, "I will look forward to it."
As we got back in
our respective cars, John said, “I should have gone for the brunette”.
"Too late”, I said.
We followed the girls back to Vicki’s house and I walked
her to the door as Vicki B. continued to fend off the advances of Baby Huey and
headed toward her own car. Vicki and I
stood on the porch, both espousing how much we enjoyed the race, the sounds of
the Katydids chirping in the background and the heavy scent of honeysuckle
swirling about our heads. She was
standing close to me and my immediate impulse was to kiss her. God knows every fiber of my being supported
the impulse. Instead, I stretched out my
hand. “Goodnight”, I said, “see you on
Saturday”. I could tell I caught her
off-guard and she shook my hand with a questioning look on her face. I bounded down the porch steps and fired up
my new chariot. Despite John’s constant
chatter, I drove home in silence, my mind wrapped around the feelings of this
warm personal encounter mixed with the sights, sounds and smells of this
incredibly warm Texas summer evening.
The adventure was just beginning.
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