My 74 Year Old Grandmother Saw My White Butt, The Moon Shining On It At 3 Am In The Morning!
How in God's name could she not only find me, but walk all that way... Issue #61
ifOnlyi… had stopped being so terribly immature. Then, experiencing guilt and living with it is not how you get the most out of your life’s journey.
It was a very hot summer in Palm Springs, California. My Cousin and I drove down to stay with my Grandmother at her apartment for the weekend. It was the Summer of 1979, and the days were 115 degrees Fahrenheit in July.
Our Moms were sisters, and Bobby and I spent much time together growing up and then in our teens and twenties. He is three years older than me and grew up attending Military Boarding School in Massachusetts. That’s a long way away from Southern California, and I know he suffered homesickness even more than me, but he had more stability in his education. Funny, we both went to Military schools. Who’s idea was that?
Bobby was 22, and I was 19 when we went to Palm Springs that summer. With my fake ID, I could just about do anything. The best part was getting into nightclubs; you may have read that my passion was Disco Dancing. On Saturday night, after basking in the sun during the day, we got all spruced up and went into Palm Springs town to ZELDAS. They had a fantastic Disco Club.
In fact, so many venues in the desert were famous for their nightlife, which only enticed thousands of people to the desert for fun weekends with added crowds everywhere at night. What would two young guys do when it’s 90 degrees at nighttime? Party and dance!
Our night of dancing was coming to a close as the clubs shut at 2 am. Bobby and I did not want it to end, as we had a super fantastic time with two extraordinary young ladies. They also wanted to continue the good times, so I said, “How about continuing the party at my grandmother’s apartment? It’s still in Palm Springs.”
We did just that: We had to sneak the girls inside and outside by the pool. “We will meet you both outside, and we can take a jacuzzi. We’ll bring towels, too.” They were up for it, so off we went to the 2nd floor to get everything we needed to bring down to the pool area—drinks, mixers, towels, etc.
We must have been too loud at nearly 3 am, drinking, laughing, and cranking the jacuzzi. One of the residents banged on my Grammy’s door and woke her up, telling her she needed to make all the noise stop. This was a complex filled with retirees whose bedtime would be about 7 or 8 pm at the latest, and most knew Bobby and me.
Jill and I had meandered around the side of the apartment building, where they had their sauna, showers, and bathrooms. We were comfortably tucked away on the side, where no one would see us as we progressed beyond cuddling. We were dancing together without any music, just making our own. LOL
Next, I heard, “OLLIE, what in the world are you doing?” “ GRAMMY, is that you?” Here it is, around 3 am, and my 74-year-old Grammy, who lost her husband over 19 years earlier due to a busted appendix on the operating table, saw my White Butt staring at her from the Moonlight. Oh No!
She shouted. “What in the World are you doing out here at this time of the morning, upsetting my neighbors and making me get up and come look for you?”
I’m sure she might have had some flashbacks after seeing me, but as she’d had over 20 strokes by this stage of her life, I’m not sure she remembered much.
“Get upstairs now, both of you and send the girl home. Both your mother’s won’t be too happy when I tell her what you’ve been up to, Ollie, and you won’t be welcome back here for a while.”
To find us, she had to get out of bed from a deep sleep, put on her robe, take the elevator to the lobby, walk out the back door to the pool, and search around in the middle of the dark night.
What gave us away wasn’t the sounds of ecstasy but the bright Moonlight. She had no problem with her eyes. We were busted, yet somehow, Bobby and his girl were better hidden and kept out of sight.
A Taxi was called immediately, and both girls were sent back to their hotel. The best part of this story is that I ended up dating Jill for 8 or 9 months afterward. Our relationship was probably the closest I came to experiencing what young love felt like without using the word ‘Love.’
Dating Jill.
For many months after this event, every Friday after work finished at 5 pm and the majority of the state got off work as well, I drove to La Jolla, California, 110 miles away, to Jill’s apartment. But on this Friday evening with everyone driving somewhere, the journey took me three and a half hours instead of one hour and forty minutes in light traffic. Jill worked at Saks Fifth Avenue, a 5-star Department Store, but not on weekends. YEA.
I always had a plan to enjoy the trip. I went to the local shop and bought a bottle of 7up and a bag of ice, filling the ice bucket to the top. I then went to Jack in the Box, a fast food drive thru restaurant chain & ordered a large Coke, emptied it, and filled it with fresh ice. By drinking from a Logo paper cup and saying Jack in the Box, anyone seeing me would think it was just a soft drink from the fast food chain when, in fact, it was a Large 7 and 7 alcoholic drink
I always had a bottle of Seagrams 7 and a large bottle of 7up ready for the drive. I also had a cup holder I used on the inside of my VW Bug window, the old-fashioned way. You just slid it into the window seal, and it worked perfectly.
Making my drinks was challenging, though, while driving 🚘 my stick shift. I used my knee a lot to steer the car while I got the ice and poured refills during the drive
I have to say now, what a stupid idiot fool I was. Truth be told, I knew it as well, when I was making the drinks. I am not making light of all of my asinine habits. I share this, so maybe it will help just one person who reads this that in no way should you ever drink and drive. I have lots of proof. My stories bleed the truth.
On one of the Friday nights, driving, the traffic was backed up. I believe there had been a few accidents. Thank goodness I wasn’t involved in any of those.
We were moving what felt like a mile every five minutes, and it was a hot summer evening. It got to a point where I not only ran out of ice but needed help from my friend John, who was at San Diego State College at the time. I found a 7-11 store, so I pulled off to call him.
John answered, and I hurriedly asked, “What are you doing, John? I need your help; I think I am lost. How much longer will it take to get to La Jolla?” John knew I was going down there every weekend to be with Jill, so he asked where I was. My reply was, “I don’t know. Hold on, I’m at a payphone.” I ran to the edge of the street and back again to tell him the name of the street I was on. Thankfully, I hadn’t passed La Jolla, but I was still an hour away. WTH.
I had never run out of ice or Seagram’s before, but this time, I was out of both and still had an hour left to drive.
Intoxicated as I was, I was divinely guided for the next hour to pull into Jill's apartment complex safely. Thankfully, I made it this time, but how? What would the next time bring?
Remember to Subscribe below. It’s Free!
#…ifOnlyi… short stories are published chronologically and follow my life growing up in California from 4 years old. If you’ve just found me, the stories will come together when you start reading from...Issue #1
How foolhardy we were! I recall a summer in France when I went out dancing with another girl and some of her male friends. I did not realize at the end of the evening how much they had been drinking. They seemed sober... until we all got in the car and the driver started careening all over the roads. This was back when in France there were still those three-lane roads where you could over take the car in front of you driving in the (shared) middle lane. We were going 80-90 miles an hour on a small country road and the boys kept yelling at the driver "Redouble! Redouble!" Meaning, pass the car in front of us. I was never so terrified in my life. I thought we were going to die. Kids are so stupid. When my son went to college I did not let him have a car!