This is spring break week, but since I've retired now, every day is a break for me. While my neighbors are off tripping in New York City and Washington, D.C., I'm cat sitting with their little darlings, and on Friday I'm headed to Pittsburg to have a rendezvous with an old college pal, Dr. Maureen, one of my partners in journalism crime (yearbooks staff) almost 40 years ago. She grew up in the 'Burg, and her dad was a football and swimming team coach. Mo and I "helped" him during the home swim meets, acting as clerks, which meant we kept score and drooled all over the half-naked bodies that stroked before our eyes. As the old saying goes, it was a touch job...rather, a tough job, but someone had to do it.
After we graduated from college and before we decided to grow up, we spent a lost year together in Joplin, Mo., where we worked for a television station and served as mascots at Frank's Lounge, a bar that catered to what we called, "The 10-Percent Club." The station was always asking its employees to dedicate 110% of themselves to their jobs, but Mo and I figured 10% was more than enough, thank-you. We'd close down Frank's, then head out to the Denny's restaurant on I-44 and pretend we were foreigners. Great fun.
Post-Joplin, I settled down in good ol' Greenwood County to be a social worker and teacher, while Maureen moved to Kansas City to eventually pursue her medical career. For around the next 10 years, I dashed up to KC on weekends to continue my escapades with her, many of which centered around sporting events. She once was hit on the arm by a wayward slapshot puck as she was feasting at an ice hockey game. Her Pepsi and popcorn went flying.
"What the heck was that?" she asked.
"Maureen, you've just been pucked!!"
A security guard carted my stunned friend off to the first aid room, but she soon returned, iced arm red and puffy, ready for more action.
We specialized in attending Royals baseball games. This was back in the day when the Royals were championship caliber and seats were hard to come by, so we'd usually end up in the $1.50 right field bleachers with the rest of the cheapskates, first-come/first-serve. Our best afternoon was when Maureen brought her mannequin friend, Sheila, for Halter Top Day. Like all the other paying female customers, Sheila was given a blue Royals halter, and she looked stunning in it. Getting her stiff legs to sit comfortably in a seat was a little tricky, but Sheila seemed to enjoy the game. She was such a hit with those sitting around us, that the free beers flowed, Sheila got drunk, and she removed her halter top, with a little help from her human friends. Security didn't intervene this time, though.
Oh, I could go on and on about my misadventures with Dr. Maureen, but I shall save them for other blogs. She now lives in North Carolina, so we no longer get together very often, but when we do, there are loads of laugh all around. I just hope her husband can tolerate being with us Friday.
After we graduated from college and before we decided to grow up, we spent a lost year together in Joplin, Mo., where we worked for a television station and served as mascots at Frank's Lounge, a bar that catered to what we called, "The 10-Percent Club." The station was always asking its employees to dedicate 110% of themselves to their jobs, but Mo and I figured 10% was more than enough, thank-you. We'd close down Frank's, then head out to the Denny's restaurant on I-44 and pretend we were foreigners. Great fun.
Post-Joplin, I settled down in good ol' Greenwood County to be a social worker and teacher, while Maureen moved to Kansas City to eventually pursue her medical career. For around the next 10 years, I dashed up to KC on weekends to continue my escapades with her, many of which centered around sporting events. She once was hit on the arm by a wayward slapshot puck as she was feasting at an ice hockey game. Her Pepsi and popcorn went flying.
"What the heck was that?" she asked.
"Maureen, you've just been pucked!!"
A security guard carted my stunned friend off to the first aid room, but she soon returned, iced arm red and puffy, ready for more action.
We specialized in attending Royals baseball games. This was back in the day when the Royals were championship caliber and seats were hard to come by, so we'd usually end up in the $1.50 right field bleachers with the rest of the cheapskates, first-come/first-serve. Our best afternoon was when Maureen brought her mannequin friend, Sheila, for Halter Top Day. Like all the other paying female customers, Sheila was given a blue Royals halter, and she looked stunning in it. Getting her stiff legs to sit comfortably in a seat was a little tricky, but Sheila seemed to enjoy the game. She was such a hit with those sitting around us, that the free beers flowed, Sheila got drunk, and she removed her halter top, with a little help from her human friends. Security didn't intervene this time, though.
Oh, I could go on and on about my misadventures with Dr. Maureen, but I shall save them for other blogs. She now lives in North Carolina, so we no longer get together very often, but when we do, there are loads of laugh all around. I just hope her husband can tolerate being with us Friday.
1 comment:
Sounds like a blast! I'm off to Toronto for a big ol Easter Egg hunt and dance. :-)
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