ADDICTED TO LOVE (Part three)
The summer I was sixteen, everything changed. The possession of a drivers license was introduced. The summer was spent in a totally new environment, that of the moving vehicle! This was our new sport. One of us would secure a vehicle from our parents, usually a station wagon or something equally as mundane. The next step was to drive and pick up EVERY ONE of the gang. Then head out to the Main Drag.
You would begin anywhere on Main Street then head north or south. North took you to the Dairy Queen, where you would cruise into the parking lot, loop behind the building and head out the entrance. The purpose, of course, was to check out who was at Dairy Queen!
Then you would head south, back through town and arrive at the Convenient Food Store at the other end, make the turn and head back north.
The time spent cruising town was vitally important. Because everyone did it! It was crucial to be seen. Looking back, it was such innocent fun. The town's young teenage population moving at a leisurely, fluid pace. The sport was to honk at those you knew. What a melodious symphony we created those hot summer nights. Young hot blooded men, and sweet southern belles poised on the threshold of womanhood.
That is how I met John Paul. A transplant to our small community from somewhere very foreign from small town USA, Brazil. His father was an American who met his mother while teaching in South America. John Paul was one of four brothers, each one dark, with black hair and beautiful brown eyes.
I fell very hard for John. The pattern was quickly being established for the rest of my life, I was a sucker for a pretty face.
After weeks of flirting with each other communicated with varies types of car honks.... (each type of honk having different meanings....short sharp honk, means "In hurry, headed to 'fill-in-the-blank.' Long, leaning on the steering wheel means, "Look at me, damn it, I want you to pull over!" A couple of quick toots in succession means, "Hey cutie!" and so on and so on.) .....he finally decided to ask me out.
He called my house, the phone line was busy. He called later, the phone line still busy. My Mom always took the phone off the hook when the baby (Omega) was napping during the afternoon! He did not know this since he really did not know me...yet. So he tries again. Line busy.
One of my best friends, Sally, came running up to the back door of our house and came in panting, gasping for breath. She came from her house, on the other side of Broadway, at least 3/4 of a mile to yell at me, "Put your phone on the hook! John is trying to call you!!!!!!!!!"
He had called her house to see if I happened to be over there.
The two of us, with our heads pressed together, answered the phone when it finally rang, and listened to him finally ask me out to the movies!
The saga of John Paul would last a long time.