CARS

MSLEMMA reminded me of this story that happened to his dad.

At his dad's regular gas station in Brooklyn, another new face stood at the pumps ready to serve him. In that short moment, his dad reflected that as the neighborhood was changing, the turn-over of workers was high.

As usual he asked for, "Twenty regular." The new attendant was twitchy, avoided eye contact and said, "New rules, you gotta pay first." Even though his dad was personal friends with the owner and hadn't been told of this policy change...he paid. As soon as the kid got the money, he ran across the street, down an alley and hopped a fence...never to be seen again.

Even if you don't drive, we all have our funny/unusual car stories. Here are a few more.

From Monday September 15's ATLANTIC CITY PRESS, (region section).

Two women (ages 21 and 25) from out-of-town entered into negotiations to buy marijuana on Pacific Avenue. The seller said he would take them to his stash. The two geniuses got into his car and were taken about 15 miles to a dark country road adjacent to Atlantic City Airport. At that point he produced a gun and forced them out of the car. They were then ordered to take off all their clothes. The thief never touched them but went off with ALL their belongings. The moral of the story is...to avoid one of life's great embarrassments... even adults shouldn't get into a stranger's car.

In 1981 while living in Las Vegas, my wife and I responded to a used car ad for her. We were way out on East Charleston where little sub-divisions were springing up in the desert, (its probably considered the middle of town these days). The seller lived in a cul-de-sac off the main road. He gave us the keys and we took it for a test-drive. About three miles past the "middle-of-nowhere," it stalled at a red light. I tried to re-start it but the ignition was dead. We decided to hitch-hike back but only a few cars went by. We were forced to walk back but luckily after a while someone picked us up. An hour had gone by when we were dropped off on Charleston. To shorten our walk, we went in a straight line, through some one's backyard.

As odd as it must have been to see us coming out from behind his neighbor's house, he surprisingly didn't ask what happened to his car. I handed him the keys, told him what happened and where the car was and we got into my car. At that point the guy said, "Hey wait, you didn't tell me if you were still interested?"

Me personally, I have always been attracted to less glamorous cars. To me there was some special about the Studebaker that looked like a mini-airplane (without the propeller), the Nash Rambler, Edsel and Corvair. Plus the Rambler American station wagon and Chrysler Imperial (both featured in my novel...Marco's and Rocky's car).

RAMBLER AMERICAN STATION WAGON (1961 ?)

Of course main streamers like everyone else in the world gravitate to upscale wheels like, Corvettes, Mustangs, Cadillacs etc. My friend Manny in Las Vegas (circa 1982) reluctantly deprived himself of a Corvette throughout his adult life. When he was recovering from a messy divorce to satisfy what he termed; mental masturbation...he bought one.

Being the heavy thinker that he was, his first passengers were his 3 and 5 year old sons. He took them for a 125 MPH joy-ride through the desert on I-15. Then from out of nowhere two motorcycle highway patrolmen began chasing him. Manny knew Vegas cops had an especially ornery reputation. He pulled over and waited for them with both hands clearly on the steering wheel. As one walked up to Manny's 'Vette, his elder son poked his head out of the T-Roof and said, "Look, its Ponch and John." (For you yungins...that's a reference to the Erik Estrada TV show, "CHIPS)." The officer laughed and said, "Your kid just saved you a lot of grief." The lecture ended when he said, "If I ever catch you doing it again whether your kid says something cute or not...you'll seriously regret it for a long time."

JOHN (left) AND PONCH (Right) FROM TV's "CHIPS," (California Highway Patrol).

Finally, in 1984 we (three couples) went apple picking in Haverstraw New York. Each couple took home a bushel of a few pounds. The next with a threat of rain, ZYMBOT drove into Manhattan with his apples left in plain slight on the back seat. While he attended to business, the skies opened up and it poured. While trudging through the storm, back to his car ZYMBOT saw the broken glass and cursed the whole apple picking excursion. Until he saw the apples in their place, his stereo intact, his collection of 8-tracks undisturbed and his unlocked glove compartment untouched. A steady drizzle soaked his car the whole way back to Brooklyn. But when he got home the rain torrents returned...it was then he reached for the umbrella that wasn't there.

P. S. ZYMBOT once bought a new car and on the way home from the showroom, he stopped at a BASKIN & ROBBINS and left the car running...I don't really have to tell you what the moral of this story is...do I?