She was the daughter of my mother’s co-worker. I didn’t agree to it, but I didn’t really have a choice. My parents were worried that I wasn’t dating and concerned that my interest in girls was not up to par compared to other 16 year olds. For parents, it’s a legitimate concern.
A date was arranged. Officially, it would be my first driving date.
I borrowed my mother’s ’72 Mustang and picked up Laura. She was petite and had dark hair with bangs like Emily Strange. She went to church. I was replacing my Yes and Pink Floyds records with The Clash and The Ramones. It was an important distinction.
At the Drive-In, I bought a large bucket of popcorn. I used it as bait to lure Laura into the back seat. She didn’t bite. I watched the movie from the backseat, in-between the front bucket seats.
When I dropped her off I said, “Nanoo Nanoo. Shazbat,” and flashed her the Nanoo Nanoo hand sign.
It still gives me chills.
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