By Larry Teren
Sunday evenings in the late 1970s and early 1980s were often spent at these so-called well-chaperoned singles events that were at drinking establishments. Sundays were usually slow nights for bars so they willingly rented out their facilities to groups hoping to get the attendees to buy some liquor. Back then driving under the influence was not so vigorously monitored. I didn’t drink but plenty of others who attended these affairs did enjoy to wet their whistle. Continue reading “Sunday Night Fever”
By Larry Teren
As I got past the teenage years, my father stopped trying to do me favors; well- for the most part. Once in my very early twenties he suggested I make a date to take out the sister-in-law of a younger friend of his. I emphatically explained to him that I did not call up girls on blind dates. I first had to, you know, see what they looked like. Not that I had Errol Flynn looks but I had to protect my fragile ego.
Dad pushed the issue. He was even willing to lend me his car on a Saturday night. Huh? The only time I got his gold colored 1970 Chevrolet was when I would first drive Ma to the Mayflower Supermarket to let her shop for food. Then, and only then, could I use the car afterward. Of course, with the deliberateness of the method Ma employed while out shopping in a large grocery store, it meant that I could expect to have the car to myself no earlier than 9pm.
Continue reading “First Dates”