MEETING THE PARENTS
Some of the girls that I met when I was sixteen still have an influence on me. The mixture of teenage emotions and adolescent hormones left some deep impressions in me. I was lucky enough to make it past the initial stages of teen angst and actually start a relationship with a special few girls. What usually comes along next is meeting her family.
Sometimes just meeting parents can be extremely harrowing. The old saying is that you don’t get a second chance at a first impression. Meeting Lisa’s parents was something that I was not in a hurry to do. Speaking from experience I would also never recommend drinking heavily beforehand.
Whenever you are getting new neighbors you always hope for the best. In 1975 when the new family moved in two houses down, all of my hopes were exceeded. A brown-eyed beauty with a smile that could light up the room was my new neighbor. Her name was Lisa. She had dark hair, beautiful skin and all of the right curves. At 17, Lisa was a year older than me. She drove a gold Formula Firebird. It was too good to be true.
I had greeted her as a neighbor and said hello to her a few times. Then one night at a party we really had our first chance to get to know each other. I think that meant that we looked at each other and both felt a similar surge of hormones. Lisa only had a beer or two and while I had already been drinking for a couple of hours, I was still functioning somewhat normally.
It was already late into the night when we got together. We danced a couple of times, talked a little bit and kissed. Kissing a beautiful girl for the first time is one of life’s most memorable treasures. When Lisa said that it was late and that she was expected home, I suggested that I escort her. I wasn’t much of an escort as I had been drinking too much to even consider driving. Lisa was in her Firebird and we did only live two houses apart, so I rode with her.
After we pulled into her driveway, I walked her up to the front door. She unlocked the front door and turned back to me. She looked at me with the most beautiful brown eyes. I held her close and gave her a goodnight kiss. And then another. We were soon making out on her front porch. I was in the euphoric teenage grip of love and alcohol.
The headlights of a car coming into the driveway got our attention. I recognized the large 70’s model Cadillac, which came abruptly into the driveway. “My parents” is all that Lisa had to say. I removed my hand from under her blouse and tried to stifle myself. I had a sense of impending doom. Then her dad tried to get out of the passenger side of the car. Lisa’s mom had been driving.
The door flew open and out fell her Dad. He was way drunker than I was. He loudly rolled onto the grass with a few choice words. Her mom was yelling at him, “Be careful.” I was not one to waste such an opportunity.
I rushed over to his side and said, “Let me help you Sir.” I picked him up from the front lawn. He asked, “Who are you?” I told him that I was his neighbor and was going to help him. I half-carried, half-dragged him into the house. Lisa’s Mom asked me to put him into a large chair.
I said goodnight to Lisa and her Mom. They thanked me for helping. Lisa’s mom looked at me in a way that only a girls Mom can. I don’t know what she knew, but I figured she would know a lot more in a little bit after they had talked. It was a good time to leave. I enjoyed the short walk home. The next day I had to ask one of my friends to take me back over to where I left my car. He asked, “What happened to you last night?” I smiled and said, “I met a girls Dad.”