I was working at the Rustler Lodge. The year was 1987, and the ski season was winding down. I'd been hired as a valet. Unfortunately, I had taken a few too many cars for joy rides.
I'd been promoted to dishwasher and was taking some time off to visit my sister
in Seattle.
Asleep at the Wheel might have been a better title.
I hitchhiked to Seattle via Idaho, not the private one. On my return to the land of MoreMen, I was hitching the coastal route. Just north of Portland an 18 year-old gentlelady picked me up on the interstate. She was not ugly. She was on her way home from her Barbizon modeling class.
Well doesn't this just happen every day? She asked me if I needed a place to stay. I said yes. She said she lived with her parents, and we drove to her home. The house was in a bucolic, green setting. The long, winding driveway led to a fairly modest looking home.
She said her mom would be home soon, and asked me if I wanted to take a shower. I was rarely at a loss for words in those days, and this was no exception. I agreed to a shower. She gave me a towel, and showed me to a shower attached to a nice bedroom with a large bed. I thought to myself, giddyup cowpoke. (This was pre-Seinfeld, so I probably said something less Krameresque.)
I enjoyed my shower. Until her mom came home. Flashback to Linda 'Ashley' Lyu.
Whilst I was showering, her mother knocked on the door and said, "Are you in there?" I said "Yes." Well, I thought, this was different. Mom wasn't getting in the shower, was she?
I finished showering and went downstairs. The yard behind the house sloped down to a pretty stream, with a large oak. Although the approach made the house look modest, there were several floors overlooking the Oregon countryside. This was about the time of Nike's rise to fame, a rise financed primarily by Japanese money. Like Apple.
I went downstairs to the kitchen. Mom was there. She was not in a good mood. Her smokin' hot daughter had just picked up a psychopath on the interstate. She didn't think I was a psychopath. She knew I was a psychopath. This is US.
Mom had a few questions for the dishwasher/hitchiker. Sufficiently satisfied with my answers, both inches of my penis wilted. Things might not turn out as well as first thought.
Dad came home. Mom had guns so daddy didn't need them. We enjoyed a charming dinner and Ms. Barbizon and I enjoyed a nice stroll along the stream after dinner. My やる気 gone, I don't think I even gave her a peck on the cheek.
If the woman who kindly gave me a lift that day contacts me, I would be glad to marry your husband. & you.
