Photo of the day – 10


When I was 11 or so, my mom started dating a new guy. I hated my mom dating and I usually did my share to get in the way, but this guy seemed alright. He had a son my age, Bobby. Although Bobby and I got along alright, he was a thorn in my side, because he was better than I at most things.
My mom ended up marrying his dad and he and Bobby moved in with us when Bobby and I were starting junior high. Bobby was more out-going than I and had lots of luck with the girls. I was more of a quiet and to myself kind of kid until I was comfortable with people. I would have never just asked a girl out, which he was totally fine doing. I had to know you a while. It had to happen naturally.
Bobby went out with most girls I had crushes on. It drove me crazy. As high school came into view we really started getting on each others nerves. We both turned 16 and had to share a car. Of course we were both guilty of doing our best not to share it. This came to fist fights occasionally. I can’t recall who won any of the fights, but I don’t recall either of us really coming away the clear winner or loser.
When I got my girlfriend pregnant, I started working at a factory at night. I got Bobby a job there as well. While I was using my money on an apartment, wedding, wife, kids; he was doing what a 17 year old should be doing with his money, spending it on frivolous things.
In my town at that time, old Monte Carlos were popular. Most people I knew were always talking about getting one, about to get one, heard of one they want to get, almost had the money to get one. My brother and his friend Richard had slick ones. They drove around with woofers in the trunk and cruised the local scene blasting whatever was popular. At the time I’d say that was Wild Thing, by Tone Loc and Naughty Naughty by John Parr. I remember my brother listening to those songs ad nauseam.
This was his first Monte Carlo in the works. Later he had a yellow one, that he made a convertible. On this one, the back window said, “Erotic II”, because Richard drove, “Erotic I”. The license plate, says “6 point”, which is referencing what we Oklahomans believe to be stronger Texas beer. That has been proved to be total bullshit.
Right after he got this paint job, my great grandfather backed into it. Bobby lost his shit.
Bobby moved away shortly before I did in 1989. He went to South Carolina and I moved to Dallas. In 1992 I had started a new job. I hadn’t talked to Bobby since he left town. He called me and wanted me to be the best man at his wedding. I was shocked. I considered us friends, but not best friends by any stretch. I didn’t have any vacation time, so I had to drive to South Carolina and back over a weekend. My sister and I went together. We got in town, dressed for the wedding, did the wedding, stayed for about 30 minutes of the reception and drove back. The only CD we listened to was Don Henley, End of the Innocence and we listened to it the entire trip. I have seen Bobby once since that wedding. He came for Christmas one year. Other than that I haven’t spoken to him, but maybe once on the phone.
Side note: The girl standing behind the car is Chali. She was his girlfriend at the time.

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