Dibbons
Well-Known Member
- Local time
- 1:54 AM
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2014
- Messages
- 4,992
- Reaction score
- 6,018
- Location
- La Paz, B.C.S., Mexico
Background: I drove my parent's new 1971 Bahama Yellow Road Runner to high school every day as junior and senior (1971-1973). Never had a girl in the vehicle with me (except my sister on the way to and from school). Parents sold the car to a friend soon afterward and before this "sad" story came to an end today.
Today: I decided to take our 1972 Bahama Yellow Satellite Sebring Plus out of "mothballs". Took off the car cover and blew off the loose dust with leaf blower. After airing up the tires and the air shocks, headed downtown (about a 10 mile drive) to top off the fuel tank and pass by Autozone on the way back. I usually frequent a service station that offers the lowest prices in town and where I find a few female attendants employed (a win-win situation if you ask me). In fact, I usually go to the pumps in the far aisle where I try to chat briefly with the girl who seems the most "intelligent". Not only that, but after a year or two of being a loyal customer, I promised myself that today was going to be the day that I ask this smart attendant her name. This question in my mind has been building up now for months and months. Just curious, I suppose.
It's a little after 9:00 AM and I know beforehand the attendant that attracts my attention the most (mentioned above) has her day off on Tuesday, so I expect to see her there as usual. I pull into the station (which is very busy due to the discount pricing) and I stop in the far aisle behind two other vehicles. As I place the slap-stick into "park", I notice the girl who normally works at those pumps is walking out of the office and is already out of uniform. She continues to walk toward me, then detours over to the passenger side of the Satellite (my passenger window is rolled up). No, No, I can't let her get away that easily!
I motion with my hand out the driver's window to beckon her over. She stops, changes course, and stands alongside the driver's door. We exchange customary greetings with one another. From the tone of her voice, I assume she recognizes me, even though I am driving a strange car today (and, as of late, with mask on). She explains briefly why she is not working. However, I am so nervous at this point, I don't understand a word she said.
It's now or never. I ask her for her name and she answers: "Dulce" (which is "sweet" in Spanish). Then, something I would have only done in my most brazen days of single-hood pops into my mind and, before I can stop myself, I offer to give her a ride. She asks where I was going? I tell her I was headed to the auto parts store. She said she was headed downtown and then stood still (momentarily) while she silently considered my kind offer. About that time the lane was clear and I pulled up for fuel.
I got out and walked to the back of the Satellite to find how long the attendant (also a girl) would spend looking for the fuel filler. Dulce told her co-worker to look under the license plate. Now that's my kind of girl! I gave Dulce the thumbs up. Let's have some more fun while we are at it. I ask the attendant to wash the rear window (which has factory style repro backlight louvers installed). Then I quickly tell her I was just kidding. About that time, the pump shuts off already at $180 Mexican pesos (about 10 liters). The fuel gauge does not register, so I was being extra careful today. I give the attendant a $200 peso bill and tell her to keep the change. Meanwhile, Dulce and her co-worker chatted a short bit among themselves about her accepting a ride in the Satellite.
Based on body language alone, I now assume Dulce accepted my offer. I go to open the passenger door only to find it was locked. I sit down in the driver's seat and reach over to unlock the door. That's when I find there is no lock plunger on that door and the upholstery shop actually covered up the hole with fabric. I exit and come back around with the keys to unlock the door and do so. I pull on the door to find it is stuck closed. I lock and unlock the door only to find it is still stuck. I pull a third time and it opens (must have been the rubber door seal holding the door closed). I am becoming more and more nervous throughout this whole scene.
Now I find reading glasses, a notebook, shopping list, and a pair of towels on top of the passenger seat. I gather up that stuff and toss onto the back seat. I step aside and Dulce is finally able to sit down. Now my 48 year "drought" of never having had a girl sit beside me in a third generation BBody is over (I don't even remember my spouse ever having taken a ride with me).
We struggle together to secure the lap belt. Dulce pulls it out part way and it locks up and won't reach. Finally she places it back and pulls hard enough the second time for it to reach and click. I forgo trying to attach the separate shoulder belt for her (but I secure myself in with both). Dulce says goodbye to her co-worker while joking about the inherent danger she now finds herself in. I ask her if she wants a helmet, but I didn't receive a response. Oh, before she got in, I told her she would be in charge of the loose fire extinguisher on the floorboard of the passenger side.
Off we go. I kind of take the long way around via the road that parallels the boardwalk. Come to find out she is headed downtown to purchase a birthday present for her ten-year old son "Ulysses". I tell her I thought the girls working at the station were lesbians, but she said that was not correct. I tell her a couple of things about myself. She directs me to where she wants to be dropped off. After I park, I ask her to wait because the doors are kind of heavy. I get out, open the passenger door, and we say our goodbyes (God bless you, etc.). Like I said, I little more than I bargained for (that's how one can get into trouble, too).
Stopped by Autozone and then headed home. When I went to pull out my keys to unlock the double steel gate that secures the property, I found my keys were not in any of my pockets. I did have all my master keys separate in another pocket, so I was not locked out. Don't know where that set of keys ended up: the tire shop where I aired up the tires, the gas station, or maybe Autozone? Or downtown where/when I opened the door for Dulce?
Today: I decided to take our 1972 Bahama Yellow Satellite Sebring Plus out of "mothballs". Took off the car cover and blew off the loose dust with leaf blower. After airing up the tires and the air shocks, headed downtown (about a 10 mile drive) to top off the fuel tank and pass by Autozone on the way back. I usually frequent a service station that offers the lowest prices in town and where I find a few female attendants employed (a win-win situation if you ask me). In fact, I usually go to the pumps in the far aisle where I try to chat briefly with the girl who seems the most "intelligent". Not only that, but after a year or two of being a loyal customer, I promised myself that today was going to be the day that I ask this smart attendant her name. This question in my mind has been building up now for months and months. Just curious, I suppose.
It's a little after 9:00 AM and I know beforehand the attendant that attracts my attention the most (mentioned above) has her day off on Tuesday, so I expect to see her there as usual. I pull into the station (which is very busy due to the discount pricing) and I stop in the far aisle behind two other vehicles. As I place the slap-stick into "park", I notice the girl who normally works at those pumps is walking out of the office and is already out of uniform. She continues to walk toward me, then detours over to the passenger side of the Satellite (my passenger window is rolled up). No, No, I can't let her get away that easily!
I motion with my hand out the driver's window to beckon her over. She stops, changes course, and stands alongside the driver's door. We exchange customary greetings with one another. From the tone of her voice, I assume she recognizes me, even though I am driving a strange car today (and, as of late, with mask on). She explains briefly why she is not working. However, I am so nervous at this point, I don't understand a word she said.
It's now or never. I ask her for her name and she answers: "Dulce" (which is "sweet" in Spanish). Then, something I would have only done in my most brazen days of single-hood pops into my mind and, before I can stop myself, I offer to give her a ride. She asks where I was going? I tell her I was headed to the auto parts store. She said she was headed downtown and then stood still (momentarily) while she silently considered my kind offer. About that time the lane was clear and I pulled up for fuel.
I got out and walked to the back of the Satellite to find how long the attendant (also a girl) would spend looking for the fuel filler. Dulce told her co-worker to look under the license plate. Now that's my kind of girl! I gave Dulce the thumbs up. Let's have some more fun while we are at it. I ask the attendant to wash the rear window (which has factory style repro backlight louvers installed). Then I quickly tell her I was just kidding. About that time, the pump shuts off already at $180 Mexican pesos (about 10 liters). The fuel gauge does not register, so I was being extra careful today. I give the attendant a $200 peso bill and tell her to keep the change. Meanwhile, Dulce and her co-worker chatted a short bit among themselves about her accepting a ride in the Satellite.
Based on body language alone, I now assume Dulce accepted my offer. I go to open the passenger door only to find it was locked. I sit down in the driver's seat and reach over to unlock the door. That's when I find there is no lock plunger on that door and the upholstery shop actually covered up the hole with fabric. I exit and come back around with the keys to unlock the door and do so. I pull on the door to find it is stuck closed. I lock and unlock the door only to find it is still stuck. I pull a third time and it opens (must have been the rubber door seal holding the door closed). I am becoming more and more nervous throughout this whole scene.
Now I find reading glasses, a notebook, shopping list, and a pair of towels on top of the passenger seat. I gather up that stuff and toss onto the back seat. I step aside and Dulce is finally able to sit down. Now my 48 year "drought" of never having had a girl sit beside me in a third generation BBody is over (I don't even remember my spouse ever having taken a ride with me).
We struggle together to secure the lap belt. Dulce pulls it out part way and it locks up and won't reach. Finally she places it back and pulls hard enough the second time for it to reach and click. I forgo trying to attach the separate shoulder belt for her (but I secure myself in with both). Dulce says goodbye to her co-worker while joking about the inherent danger she now finds herself in. I ask her if she wants a helmet, but I didn't receive a response. Oh, before she got in, I told her she would be in charge of the loose fire extinguisher on the floorboard of the passenger side.
Off we go. I kind of take the long way around via the road that parallels the boardwalk. Come to find out she is headed downtown to purchase a birthday present for her ten-year old son "Ulysses". I tell her I thought the girls working at the station were lesbians, but she said that was not correct. I tell her a couple of things about myself. She directs me to where she wants to be dropped off. After I park, I ask her to wait because the doors are kind of heavy. I get out, open the passenger door, and we say our goodbyes (God bless you, etc.). Like I said, I little more than I bargained for (that's how one can get into trouble, too).
Stopped by Autozone and then headed home. When I went to pull out my keys to unlock the double steel gate that secures the property, I found my keys were not in any of my pockets. I did have all my master keys separate in another pocket, so I was not locked out. Don't know where that set of keys ended up: the tire shop where I aired up the tires, the gas station, or maybe Autozone? Or downtown where/when I opened the door for Dulce?
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My thoughts exactly!! Heck, no nervousness here anymore because if they don't like how I am, so what. POF.....Plenty of Fish.....in the sea lol Also, this is the junk I drive and if you don't like it, I'll stop and let ya out 
