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Message-ID: <40350asstr$1042067409@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Frederick T." <hangten@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} "The Way it Should Have Been"[1/4]{Frederick T.}(MF rom)
Date: Wed,  8 Jan 2003 18:10:09 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Author: Frederick T.
Title: The Way it Should Have Been
Part: 1 of 4
Universe: 
Summary:
Keywords: (MF rom)
Language: English

-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE-----

   @(C) 1999 Frederick T.  Commercial use in any form requires the written
permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds goes to the
  National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORMAL) and/or the
                           American Cancer Society.

                         !!!!! ATTENTION READER !!!!!

    The following story is a work of sexual fiction.  So it follows that 
youngsters should not be reading it.  If you happen to fall into that category 
and still reading, there's not much I can do to prevent you from continuing.  
That's part of the problem...The just tremendous explosion of information 
today compared to say...Just ten years ago.  Shit !  How about thirty years 
ago ?  Today's youngsters and young adults have so many more issues than we 
had...Things we never thought about.  The war was the defining issue of our 
time.  Today there is no unifying idea to guide youth and yet maybe, they 
don't need that much ?  Guidance, that is.

    Having said that.  I really believe censoring the material a young mind 
absorbs is the responsibility of the adult who has custodial responsibility 
for the young mind...It's not the government's responsibility or mine because 
I happen to contribute to this news group...You can't shut down the 
information...A tremendous example would be the demise of the soviet union.  
In retrospect, it's easy to see how western information just bombarded their 
government into submission.  A great time to be a member of the armed forces 
but then why are so many getting out ?  Another part of the problem ?  And who 
says it's a problem ?

    I'm going to diverge a bit from the usual and say that although the plot 
and subplots of the following tale stem from the author's fertile imagination, 
the characters...Well, the characters are made up of bits and pieces of the 
tumble dried assortment of friends and acquaintances I've made over a rich and 
long life.  I find it hard to believe that anyone my age, who writes, doesn't 
do the same.

    So many of you have asked for some stories about Willy when he was 
younger.  Well, unfortunately Willy was a pretty typical Southern California 
surfer of the era circa, 1955...1956...1957...1958...Through about the mid- 
60's.  But since this is fiction...Nah !  It's fucking fantasy...Not even 
fiction, just total fantasy !  So here goes...The following story is the way 
Willy...Well, it's the way it should have been !  Now we can quibble over a 
lot of the details and some of the stories may appear to be a little larger 
today than they actually were but that's story telling !

    I'd like to dedicate the following story to those who have meant the most 
to me...From the early years to the present.  The tales we could tell about 
this and that...The secrets we shared and still share.  The times we've been 
not quite in control of any part of our lives but found you standing right 
there and that was cool.  The intimacies we shared go beyond the sex.  It's 
hard to describe but then maybe, it is the sex ?  I'm not positive but it sure 
was fun !  Remember...Sex should be fun !  As always e-mail your comments to 
the usual.

                         The Way it Should Have Been
                                   (MF rom)

                                      by
                                 Frederick T.

        With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S. Constitution

                           Christmas Vacation 1964

    There were several brand new surfboards in the window.  My boy friend was 
looking them over.  I was bored and only agreed to tag along with him because 
we were also going to shop for his tux.  Yea !  I know...It was only December 
but this would kind of make it formal; that we were going together...To the 
senior prom, that is.  We were both graduating in June.  I had been accepted 
at University of California - Santa Barbara.  Wow !  College !  I could hardly 
wait for school to end...And while I was spending most of the Summer here, my 
boy friend was attending some baseball camp for six weeks...He was going to 
try out for baseball in college...At UCLA...But I'm getting a head of 
myself...Summer was a long way off.

    I'd never been in a surfboard shop before.  It smelled funny and was very 
noisy.  Some motor was running in the back of the shop...Back behind a wall.  
There was a doorway but no door...A whole bunch of colored beads were hanging 
down in the doorway.  I thought that looked kind of cool.

    There were a lot more boards inside.  Dozens lined the walls, all standing 
on their tails...All different colors, some with stripes, some with bands of 
color around them.  The salesman was busy with some kid and his father.  He 
glanced over at us and then yelled over toward the beaded doorway.

    "Hey !  Buffalo !  Give me a hand up front...Will you ?"

    It was the first time I met him yet we really didn't meet.  He was about 
my boyfriend's height but not as heavy.  He was at least two, maybe three 
years older than we were.  His hair was real long and tied with a colorful 
scarf forming what looked like a girl's pony tail down his back.  It was a 
dark brown but even in the dead of winter had some sun in it.

    He was wearing what appeared to be overalls with an apron of some type and 
was covered in white dust...All over except for his face.  He'd been wearing 
some big mask, kind of like a diver...Oh !  No, not one of those bell things 
but just a mask.  He had a scarf tied around his mouth.  Oh !  His hair was 
white, too...In front.  I got the color from the pony tail.

    My boy friend put on the real cool guy act.  "Nah...I'll wait."  The guy 
seemed cool with it, just nodded and then returned to the back of the shop.  
The motor started up again.....

                                 Winter 1965

    I saw him a couple of times on my way to school.  He was always in the 
process of putting his board into a beat up Ford station wagon...No !  Nothing 
close to a woody.  A real piece of crap.  He was always parked in the same 
place, facing down hill, right across from the trail to Palos Verdes Cove.  I 
waved once but I don't think he saw me.  My mother asked me who it was I waved 
to ?  I laughed.  I couldn't explain who it was or why I waved.  I think my 
mom thought it was a teenage thing...Totally unfathomable.  She didn't ask 
again.

    I met him for the first time on a dreary Sunday in February.  It was 
raining on and off, the hill, shrouded with clouds.  My boy friend and I were 
in church...Early mass.  We were both working on some senior project...I can't 
remember now...Anyway, we're in the parking lot when some friends of ours 
drive by.

    They're really friends of my boy friend.  They were on their way to 
Launada Bay.  Big surf !  They were all excited.  Now, none of them were 
dressed to go surfing so I figured it must be really huge.  Plus, my boy 
friend and his friends were pretty much Summer surfers.

    We followed them out to the Bay.  There were a number of cars parked along 
the road, lots of them with boards on roof racks or sticking out of the back 
of station wagons.  I can see knots of people standing along the cliff side.  
Shit !  It's only seven-thirty and there must be forty, fifty people here 
already.

    I some how knew he'd be here and lagged behind my boy friend and his 
friends, looking for his station wagon.  There it was.  The back end still 
open with a towel carelessly thrown over the tail gate...Like he was in a 
hurry.

    There are only two guys out; that I can see.  I notice several waxing up 
on the rock beach below us and there were a few walking down the cliff.  Most 
all of them were wearing wet suits.  There were some brave souls but not many.

    Now let me tell you...There may have been fifty on the cliff side but 
there were only about ten, maybe twelve guys who were...Well, going surfing.  
And it was huge.  The two out in the water were hardly specks in the gray mush 
of the Pacific.  A buzz began down the way and it kind of moved along the 
cliff side towards us.  The buzz got louder, guys were pointing out into the 
ocean.  Some guys, down the way, were jumping up and down.  Everyone was 
looking out at the sea.  A large number of huge swells were approaching the 
Dominator.  It ran aground...Shit !  I can't remember when ?  I was a kid.   
The ocean looked like an accordion.

    The two specks in the water started paddling out to sea.  One of them 
didn't make it over the first wave.  His board bounced around like a cork in 
the white water, rising high into the air and then being consumed by the white 
water again.  The second speck was turning around and paddling for the second 
wave.  Total silence on the cliff side.  You could almost hear the waves 
breaking.  When the guy caught the wave, people started hooting and hollering  
You could almost feel the excitement...The energy.

    The lone surfer was streaking across this huge wall of water, legs spread, 
arms out for balance.  When he out ran ahead of the wave a bit he carved this 
huge arcing turn back to his left and headed for the cascading water.  Back 
again to his right and then he was over the top of the wave and the crowd was 
actually clapping.

    I just noticed.  The surfer was real close to the loose surfboard and now, 
further out, I could make out the bobbing head of the one who lost it.  The 
guy who caught the wave, paddled over, placed a foot on the nose of the other 
board and then started paddling back out.  When he reached the other guy he 
dropped off the surfboard and continued out into the surf.

    We stayed for over two hours but I only remember the beginning and the 
end.  The rest was just listening to my boy friend and his friends bullshit a 
lot.  There were about eight of them out now and more walking down the cliff 
every once and a while.

    I saw the board first.  God !  It looked a block long...All gray with a 
big sticker advertising that company where I first saw him.  He was almost to 
the top, climbing the trail slowly, following his friend.  His friend appeared 
to be closer to my age.  I slipped away from the guys I was with.  The cliff 
side now had at least a hundred people or more looking out at the surf.  I'd 
heard several estimates.

    I was standing at the head of the trail when he appeared.  I felt like a 
fool, dressed in a skirt and blouse with my best pumps on.

    "Hi !"  He stopped and looked at me.  He was still dripping water and it 
pooled around his feet in the mud.  He looked so sleek in the wet suit, like a 
seal.

    "Buffalo...Right ?"  He smiled and I returned it.  "How big is it ?  
People up here figure twelve, maybe fifteen...They close ?"

    "Bigger sets, maybe...But most, eight...Ten feet.  It was better earlier 
and will probably be better tomorrow morning.  You look nice...Just back from 
church ?"

    I remember blushing.  He continued on.  "I did...last night...five-thirty.  
I still kind of think it's cheating but the Jesuits say it's on the up and 
up."  He laughed and I laughed with him.  We were both silent for a moment.

    "And your name is ?"

    "Cathy."  I left it at that.

    "Nice to meet you, Cathy.  Your boy friend like his new board ?"

    "He hasn't tried it yet...He's a Summer surfer."  He smiled, said good-bye 
and wandered off toward his station wagon.

                                 Spring 1965

    I saw him a couple of times parked across from PV Cove that Spring on the 
way to school but that was it, until late April.  He was pumping gas into his 
station wagon at the gas station across from the grocery up near the high 
school.  I was with a bunch of kids in the store, buying cokes and shit that 
would turn our complexions into pizza.  I was really angling for a ride home.  
My parents were in the process of divorcing and my mom and I were stuck with 
just one car.  A senior in high school and taking the bus home... I don't 
think so.  I'd rather walk but usually tried to bum a ride.

    "Going toward the Cove ?"

    "Sure...Need a ride ?"  He was very talkative on the way, asking me about 
my school work and college aspirations.  Just before dropping me off, he asked 
if I wanted to go to a surfing movie with him at a high school up in Santa 
Monica on Saturday night.  As if Santa Monica was filled with high schools.  I 
was noncommittal as my boy friend and I usually went out both nights.

    He left me with a card from the surfboard shop.  "...call before Saturday 
at four...I'm usually there until four."  Yea !  Right, buddy.  I'm going to 
call you...Don't hold your breath.....

    Early Saturday afternoon, my gremie boy friend informed me that he "...was 
going out with the boys..."

    "Now...mom don't get crazy on me.  This guy is a little older than I am.  
I think he goes to college."  My dad would have gone through the roof but I 
think he screwed around a lot so he suspected everyone else did the same.  
Anyway, I'd just called.  Buffalo sounded very pleased to hear from me.  He 
was picking me up at five and we were going to dinner before heading up to 
Santa Monica.

    He was dressed very nicely and my mother told me later that she was very 
pleased to meet him.  I had no idea what they talked about while I waited the 
requisite time before coming into the front room.

    We ate at a small restaurant, a hole in the wall...In Hermosa Beach.  Kind 
of like a bar.  It was obvious the staff knew him, several called him by name.  
He talked a lot about college.  I was surprised he'd graduated already.  He 
didn't look that old.  He was waiting for orders.  He'd enlisted or whatever ?  
I thought he was stupid.  The vast majority of the guys I knew had no idea 
there was a war going on.  Most were going to college to avoid service...They 
really had no college ambitions...Just avoid the draft.  This fool was 
enlisting !

    He talked a lot about flying airplanes and surfing and life in general.  
He told me he was glad I took a piece as the cake passed by.  Sometimes people 
never took a chance and then the door closed and the opportunity never 
presented itself again.  It was kind of strange talk for a first date but he 
was a perfect gentleman and at the front door, after the movie, told me again 
he was glad we both took a chance.  I gave him my number but he never called.  
I figured he knew I was stepping out on my boy friend as when he kissed me on 
the forehead he whispered, "Our secret."

                                 Summer 1965

    One of my girl friends was taking her mom's car in to get it fixed down in 
the beach cities.  I went with her, mostly because I was bored to tears.  My 
boy friend was at that baseball camp.  I was anxious to leave home, be on my 
own, go to college.  At least my parents got their shit together on that.  My 
dad was picking up the college tab and I could hardly wait.

    We're in the car place...Right on PCH and right across the street from the 
surfboard shop.  Like a magnet it drew me across the street.  He was in the 
back, sanding a surfboard.  He acted surprised to see me and put his work 
down.  We talked for a while and then my friend burst in and said the car was 
ready.  She rushed back to the car place.  I told her I'd be out front waiting 
and Buffalo waited with me.

    "You busy, the next couple of days ?"  Of course I wasn't.  "Thought maybe 
we could go down South...Do a little surfing.  Maybe spend a couple of days in 
Baja ?"

    God !  I couldn't believe it.  He was asking me...What was he asking me ?  
I wasn't sure.  This wasn't exactly the kind of second date you expect.  How 
could you explain it to your parents...Well, my mother...I'm not sure ?

    "Ah !  Isn't this kind of a big step for a second date ?"  He laughed but 
didn't reply.  "Is this more of the cake you were talking about ?"

    "Yea...Something like that.  A nice little adventure before you go away to 
college and work your ass off to graduate.  Don't do what I did.  If the 
minimum wasn't good enough, it wouldn't be the minimum.  You have to do better 
than that...It closes a lot of doors."

    "I'll have to think about it."

    "You got the number, right ?"  I knew exactly where in my purse the card 
was but had no intention of telling him that.  So he got me another card and 
off I went.  Three days later I still hadn't broached the subject.  I wasn't 
going to, either.  There was something about it ?  You just don't ask a girl 
to spend a couple of days with you...I mean, if you hardly know her !  But the 
Mystery...Adventure...I just couldn't put my finger on it.

    My mother came in all excited that evening.  She was working as a sales 
clerk at one of the new malls up on the top of the hill.  They were calling it 
Rolling Hills something or other.  Anyway, she won a selling contest and the 
prize was a weekend in Las Vegas.  She could take a friend and was hoping I 
wouldn't mind if she asked her sister.  Her sister was also divorced.  Jesus !  
I wonder if it runs in the family...Is this what I have to look forward to ?

    No !  Of course I didn't mind.  My mother was passing me the cake and I 
was definitely going to take a piece.  I called at nine the next morning.  I 
could hear the salesman calling his name.

    "Aaah...It's Cathy.  My mom's leaving for Las Vegas on Friday.  She won't 
be home until Monday or Tuesday."  Yea !  I fibbed a little.  I figured I 
could...Shit !  I really didn't know ?

    "What time do you want me to pick you up ?"

    "She's leaving in the morning..."  I didn't know what else to say.

    "Pick you up at ten.  There's not much room.  A couple of pairs of shorts, 
some "T" shirts...A nice blouse, sandals...Some underwear...Yea !  A bathing 
suit...We'll spend most of our time in bathing suits."

    "How about those girl things ?  Room for them ?"

    "Oh !  Yea !  Sure...As long as it fits in your purse...You got a big 
baggy one ?  That'll be cool to put shit in when we shop and stuff.  Oh ! 
Don't forget your birth certificate...You're eighteen, right ?"

                                Camp Pendleton

    On the way down the coast he was telling me he wasn't sure this would 
work.  He wasn't really in yet and didn't have an I.D. but he had orders that 
said he had to report to Officer Training School in October.  Next year he'd 
be in pilot training.  He was excited about it.  I got excited listening to 
him talk.

    The guard wasn't too happy letting this long haired guy and his girl 
friend...Oh !  Jesus !  I was referring to myself as his girl friend.  I 
wonder what the guard thought we were going to do ?  I was no virgin but all 
my experience was with my present boy friend and I'd never slept with a guy 
all night long.  We're through the gate and the guard saluted us.  Buffalo 
even saluted back.  The excitement was contagious.

    We drove for miles.  I was really surprised how large the base or whatever 
was.  He parked the station wagon on some hard sand and grass about a quarter 
mile from the ocean.  The noise of the surf was in the background.  The back 
of the wagon was filled with two coolers full of beer and soft drinks and some 
hamburgers and fruit and lots of other shit.  There were two sleeping bags and 
some air mattresses if we needed to sleep in the wagon.  He said; in Mexico, 
if it rained, we might have to sleep with the surfboards.

    He brought two...One for me and one for him.  I laughed but by dinner time 
he'd convinced me to try it.  We took an old beat up blue one and out we went.  
We spent about an hour and I did no better than get to my knee with one foot 
on the board.  My hair was a mess but so was his.

    After dinner we sat by the small barbecue he brought, watching the coals 
die out and drinking beer.  He told me quite casually he'd have to buy me a 
new suit.  I was wearing a one piece that was about three years old.  I hadn't 
grown since I was fifteen, still wore a thirty-four "B" cup.  Twenty-two in 
the waist with a thirty-five hip measurement.  My boy friend said I had a nice 
butt and compared to some I've seen in gym class, I'd agree.

    My long, dark brown hair almost frames my huge nose.  Now, my mom says 
it's nothing but it's big.  Kind of like a ski jump without the ramp up at the 
end.  I've got dark brown eyes with real dark eye brows.  I topped out at 
five-seven and weighed a little over one fifteen...Sometimes one eighteen, 
when I'm having my period.  I've got real skinny legs.

    My boy friend thinks I'm sexy but then I'm letting him screw me...So I 
think he'd say or do just about anything to keep that arrangement going in the 
right direction.  Now, we've only done it four times but we're screwing...I 
never thought I'd do that before I was married but I did.  Did alcohol play a 
part ?  Probably !  Peer pressure ?  Maybe...But that's not all what's it's 
cracked up to be when it comes to sex.  Taking a drag off a cigarette or 
drinking a beer can never be compared to having intercourse...Fucking...It 
sounded so evil...Naughty.

    It was dark and the coals were just about all done in.  We were sitting on 
the open sleeping bags.  He was in a pair of jockey shorts without a shirt.  I 
had just a "T" shirt on with a pair of panties.  He told me we'd have to stop 
and get a shower tomorrow as the salt water would eventually start to bother 
us.  Sleeping with salt covered bodies was the pits, he said.

    I slept like a baby and was disappointed he wasn't lying beside me when I 
woke.  The sun was just coming up behind me and shining out on the expanse of 
ocean in front of me.

    He was on the forward tip of his board, arms above his head, sliding 
across the face of about a two foot wave.  I laid back down and looked up at 
the bright blue sky.

    Wow !  Here I am with a guy...I hardly know...We've had one date...And I 
just spent the night with him, cuddled with him on an open sleeping bag.  Felt 
him almost all night long.  For a while he had his arm around me.  It was a 
funny feeling...Different...More than sex...I was a little confused...Where 
was this going ?  Or was it going anywhere ?

    I was sleeping again when he finally got out of the water and then the 
smell of bacon woke me.  He was crouching by the barbecue and slowly turning 
them a strip at a time, being careful they didn't fall into the coals.  The 
toast was kind of strange but the orange juice was out of this world...Fresh 
squeezed, he said.

    We left the base and showered at a public beach just North of San Diego.  
He let me drive most of the way while he tried to tune in a Mexican radio 
station on one of those cheap Japanese transistor radios.  He had it hanging 
from the ash tray.  To get in the grove, he said.  We shopped...A lot more 
shit this time.  He said we'd be gone three, four days...So much for Tuesday.  
Who cares ?  I'd come up with some excuse for my mother.  I was having a great 
time and it wasn't like we were behaving like adolescents.  Shit !  He was 
twenty-three.  I was eighteen.  We were adults !  I felt so free !  Alive and 
so free !

    "We're going to have to sneak you across...That's why we have to cross 
today or tomorrow.  It's always crowded on the weekends."  I got scared.  
"Sneak you across..."  What the hell did that mean ?

    We stopped in a busy market area just this side of the boarder.  It was 
full of shops and stalls, selling everything imaginable.

    "I'll be back in a while.  Find yourself a two piece."  It took him 
forever, it seemed and I must have looked in a dozen shops.  How he found me 
was pure luck.  He insisted I buy, what I considered...Jesus !  It was skimpy.  
I'd have to shave a little to wear it.  My one piece covered all that.  Shit !  
I didn't bring a razor.  I'd be amazon woman after a week...Well, almost a 
week.  Maybe he had a razor ?  He must.  He was clean shaven after the shower.

    He was passing the cake again, so I took another piece.  I didn't have to 
wear it when I got home.  With him, I felt I could do anything.

    We were back in the car and he was outlining the plan.  "...your birth 
certificate and the note from your parents."  What note from my parents ?  
"...under twenty-one and need your parent's permission to travel in Mexico.  
The note says...Well, you can read it.  I'm glad this worked out as the back 
up plan was a little risky...We'd have to find a middle aged couple and talk 
them into passing you off as their daughter.  This is much better."

    I was reading how my parents were allowing their daughter, Cathy Naylor, 
to travel to Mexico with William Buffalo Tamarack, a good friend of the 
family.  The youngsters would be traveling down into Baja to surf and shop.  
It was even notarized.  Except for the waiting in line, going through customs 
was a breeze.  Buffalo spoke descent spanish and the boarder guards on both 
sides were always smiling, although the U.S. guy told Buffalo he needed a hair 
cut.

                               Tijuana, Mexico

    We parked in a real run down looking, dirt parking lot back from the main 
drag.  Jesus !  The traffic this side of the boarder was worse than on the 
american side but it was Saturday night.  People were running up and down 
between the cars, selling anything you'd buy.  Buffalo talked to them all in 
spanish and was now bickering with a young man in the parking lot.

    "We're ok, now.  Manuel is going to watch the car while we eat.  A dollar 
now, a dollar later.  We go back a few years.  He runs this area and makes 
pretty good bread."  He laughed and then continued.  "He told me that if I 
wasn't with such a beautiful senorita, he would introduce me to his sister."  
We were both laughing and he had his arm around my waist when we entered the 
cantina.

    We waited at the bar for a table.  This place was packed.  He ordered in 
spanish and the drinks were huge.  He told me he'd been haggling with the bar 
tender for his margarita recipe...Had been for several years now and was 
getting nowhere.  So, I started winking at the bar tender and eventually used 
my french on him.  I took four years in high school and was pretty good.  Went 
to France last year for the whole Summer...Foreign exchange.

    The bar tender leaned across to me and whispered in english.  "Tell the 
gringo that it's three-one-three.  He should be able to figure it out from 
there and if I ever hear he made a slushy one, I'll cut his throat.  Only on 
the rocks."  He paused while staring into my eyes.  "You're much too beautiful 
for the Buffalo man.  I get off at two, if he passes out on you."  He laughed 
a very loudly and put our second round on the bar.  Shit !  I was hardly done 
with the first.

    We were at the table and the waiter seemed to know Mr. Buffalo, as he 
called him.  The dinner was grand...A whole bunch of barbecued shrimp with 
rice and beans.  These four guys came to the table and sang what sounded like 
ballads.  Buffalo and the musicians were constantly exchanging what must have 
been funny jokes as they were all laughing.

    When they left, I asked him what was so funny.  He burst out laughing and 
said I was much too young to understand.  I kicked him under the table and he 
laughed louder.  People were looking at us.  We ate some more and then the 
musicians were back.  I batted my eyes at them and got one of them to tell me, 
in very good english, that they were talking about my beauty.  Then why were 
they laughing ?  This jerk thought I was stupid !

    I motioned him closer and whispered.  "Tell Mr. Buffalo...In spanish, 
please.  That...That if he thinks he's getting into my pants tonight he's 
drunker than he thinks I am."  The musician straightened up, laughing his guts 
out.  After a long string of spanish all the musicians started laughing like 
fools.  The music even came to a stop.  Buffalo was turning all sorts of 
colors but eventually burst out laughing, too.

    He was quite drunk but then so was I.  He bellowed across the room in 
spanish.  A young girl, no more than seven or eight, showed up at the table.  
He whispered in her ear and gave her a dollar.  She rushed off and in about 
ten minutes was back with a bouquet of flowers.  She bowed when she presented 
them to me.  Now, I've never had a guy just give me flowers...Yea !  Ok !  For 
the prom and...That's about it.

    I got up and threw myself at him.  I ended up in his lap but some of the 
stuff on the table fell on the floor.  We were down on our knees cleaning up 
my mess when the musicians came back.  The restaurant staff were rushing over 
with brooms and all that shit.  All of them were laughing and Buffalo was 
picking me up over his shoulder.

    After the shock, I started laughing.  We were half way down the block 
before he set me down.  There was no sense in struggling.  I'd probably just 
hurt us both by causing him to fall.  Shit !  He was so drunk, I was amazed he 
could walk.  I was dizzy when he set me down and just a little embarrassed but 
then he was kissing me, all tongue and very passionate.

    We danced.  We shopped...And ended up sleeping in the back of the station 
wagon.  Manuel told us in perfectly good english that for another five bucks 
he'd make sure I didn't get sold into white slavery for the rest of my life, 
never to see america again.  All three of us laughed.

                           Baja California, Mexico

    The sun woke me.  We were moving.  My head felt like a bomb had gone off 
in it.  I could hardly lift it off the sleeping bag without spasms of pain 
shooting through my temples.  I peeked over into the front.  He was driving 
and mexican music was blaring from the radio.

    "About time you got up...We're way behind schedule because you got so 
drunk last night...Practically threw yourself at me.  Had to have five or...I 
think it was six of Manuel's friends come over and take care of you after I 
was through with you."  Hearing no response from me, he continued.

    "Well...You did throw yourself at me in the restaurant and one of the guys 
at one of the dancing places offered me a thousand pesos for you..."  He 
moaned when I slapped him.  It wasn't real hard but he moaned...Made a big 
deal out of it.

    The effort to slap him caused more spasms of pain.  He had his arm around 
my neck and was attempting to pull me over into the front seat.  I fumbled 
into the front as spasms of pain electrified my body.  I'd never felt this 
horrible.

    "Time for a little hair of the dog that bit us and a little special 
Buffalo remedy.  You look like shit, my dear.  What bowery did you spend the 
evening in ?  I think I missed you.  I was with the most desirable lady in the 
cantina last night and look what I woke up with."  He was bellowing with 
laughter and I didn't have the guts to slap him again.  I was afraid the pain 
would never go away.

    He made me open two mexican beers while he told me that we were about 
three hours away, depending on traffic...Away from what I had no idea ?  It 
was mid-morning about nine, maybe ten, I figured.  I had no earthly idea where 
we were.  All around us was desert.  I was almost scared.  The throbbing came 
back.  I tried to look at his watch...One of those water proof things.  He 
kept twisting his wrist, forcing me to bend, like a pretzel, down on to the 
front seat to get a look at the time.  It was nine-fifteen and then he kissed 
me.

    His breath was foul but then I suppose mine was, too.  It was a short kiss 
but he chewed on my lower lip and for some strange reason that turned me on.  
"You need to pay a little more attention to dental hygiene, senorita."  He was 
laughing.

    "You're no romeo either, senior."  We both laughed and then brushed our 
teeth with beer.  He said it was better than the water and speaking of water, 
I wondered where the two big bladders of water came from...And what were we 
going to use it for other than drinking ?

    I fell asleep and only woke when we stopped.  It was a run down flea bag 
joint - kind of a gas station with a grocery attached...A couple of windows 
broken in front, patched up with newspaper.  The people were nice and we 
bought some more beer along with a full tank of gas.

    When we pulled away, he told me we'd have to start watching our pennies.  
I told him I had some money and he told me to keep it safe.  We might just 
need it.

    "How you feeling ?"  I hardly heard him above the radio, blasting some 
mexican cha cha cha or something.

    "I could do with a couple of hours of sleep and I've felt a lot better."  
He held out a hand rolled cigarette.  Shit !  It had to be marijuana ?  I may 
be young but one of my friends has a sister in college who's tried it.

    "It's magic, Cathy...Honest...Magic."  I took it out of his hand, visions 
of becoming a drug addict flashing through my head.  He held out a box of 
matches from the cantina.  Now, I tried smoking before, didn't like it but 
knew how to do it.  I took a drag and he started coaching immediately.

    "No...No...Suck it right into your lungs and hold it...As long as you 
can."  I took another drag, the smoke curling up from the end of the 
cigarette.  I got dizzy, holding my breath but other than that didn't feel a 
thing.  I had a couple of more drags, the last one made me cough like a fool.  
He was holding out his beer to me.

    I took a big swallow.  When I looked up it seemed like we were going maybe 
twenty miles an hour.  I asked why we were driving so slow and he laughed.  
There was still some cigarette left and he had it leaning up in the ash tray.  
He was wearing some shades so I dug through my purse looking for my sun 
glasses.  I ran across my make-up and started laughing because I saw no way of 
using it down here.  I'd have to use one of the car mirrors as I couldn't find 
the little one I kept in my purse.  The flowers ended up in my hand.  It 
seemed like eons ago but was just last night.

    He was talking about something.  I had no idea what and my mind was much 
too confused to try to listen to him.  I started keeping time to the music 
with my foot and he put his hand on my thigh, up under my skirt a little.  I 
started laughing as I watched his hand massage my bare thigh.  The dress was a 
mess, looked like I slept in it.  His hawaiian shirt looked the same.  We were 
both laughing.

                                [continued in]
                         The Way it Should Have Been
                                  [part two]

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