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| This is what it feels like: a wax bonfire. |
But enough about present-day me. Let's get to the second part of the story about the time I went to the Park & Ride near the Long Island Expressway and had a couple of interesting encounters.
When we ended the previous story, my friend Chuck freaked out when two otherwise harmless gentlemen revealed to us that they were gay, and he hauled ass out of the parking lot.
I'm not sure what Chuck was afraid of, because I don't think we were in danger of unsolicited sodomy from 10 feet and two layers of car door away. Somehow, though, I was able to convince everyone to return to the scene of the no-crime. Before we returned, Tony insisted we switch seats so I could ride shotgun so it would be easier for me to handle the conversation.
Once we returned...
...the car containing the first two guys we chatted with was no longer around. Either they found success in whatever endeavor they were seeking, or we freaked them out as much as they freaked us out.
We idled for a moment, then I spotted a guy sitting alone in his car. His window was rolled down. I instructed Chuck to roll up so my side was facing the driver.
It was a guy who you would probably define as a "businessman." He wore what today I'd classify as business casual — dress shirt but no tie, and I assumed he was wearing Dockers or some kind of dress slacks, though if it turned out he wasn't wearing any pants at all then this story would probably have taken a slightly different turn — and he seemed the type who wore that kind of outfit all the time, even when food shopping or going to the hardware store, and had like one pair of jeans and that one pair would be pressed by the dry cleaner.
And while I'm completely prejudging the guy, he was probably in his mid-thirties.
IT'S CALLED "ACTING"!
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| Hey, good lookin'! Nice, uh, carburetor? |
This time, I started the conversation. I wanted to sound non-threatening, especially because I wasn't looking to harass the guy; I was completely fascinated that there were people hanging out in a parking lot late at night like this not far from where I lived, and my own life was extremely boring and humdrum and mundane.
"How're you doing?" I began.
"Pretty good," he said.
This was about as far as I could go before I got stuck. I'd never hit on anyone, man or woman, so I not only lacked "game," I didn't even know that there even was a "game." So, in true Method fashion that would give Hyman Roth another heart attack, I summoned everything I knew about pick-up artistry, which came mostly from terrible sitcoms of the 1970s and 1980s, and I went with this classic line:
"Come here often?"
Surprisingly, he didn't flinch. He said that he did, in fact, frequent the Park & Ride with, well, frequency.
"Wow, that often?"
"Yeah," he replied with a mutter, more to himself than to me, "I think my wife might have figured it out by now."
I declined to further probe that subject and instead engaged in some more small talk. Then he asked me a question I was completely unprepared for:
"So...what are you into?"
"BASEBALL" WOULD BE THE WRONG ANSWER
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| Do not watch Dead Ringers if you're under 18, have never been with a girl, and aren't quite sure what a gynecologist does. Especially if you're a twin. |
"What are you into?"
The guy replied, "Getting off." Again, at the time I had no idea what he meant, so I replied, very knowingly:
"Oh, that." I almost added, "Is that all?"
The guy had a sudden revelation and quickly asked, "How old are you, anyway?"
When I said I was 17, he gave this wide-eyed stare and exhaled slowly in a way that sounded like, "What the fuck am I doing?"
I feared I was losing control of the conversation, so I started speaking extremely quickly. And without thinking.
"No, no, that's okay, though, because I'm very experienced! I have this tool that my friend made, it's like a kind of crane, and it's really good, though it can sometimes draw blood, but in a good way."
Yes, that is what I said. What did that mean? I have no idea. I think I based this on something that happened in the David Cronenberg movie Dead Ringers where Jeremy Irons, who plays creepy very well by himself, plays demented twin gynecologists who become obsessed and increasingly competitive over the same woman whose plumbing is a bit, uh, irregular. I watched this by myself when I was around 16: not a good idea. I later watched Eraserhead. Also not a good idea.
The guy didn't really know how to react to that, so he just said, "I see." To be polite.
Finally, Chuck said, "I think it's time to go, Anthony." I thanked the gentleman for his time, and we left.
THIS IS THE CODA
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| The fourth member of our party didn't have much to say. |
So yeah, I told them the Park & Ride story one night, and they were like, let's check it out. Rich lived less than a half-mile away, so we got into Brad's car, this tiny Toyota Corolla. I rode shotgun, because as before, I was expected to do the talking. For reasons that are still hazy to me today, we were also joined by an entire disassembled full-size-replica human skeleton. One of us had a cousin in medical school, and as part of this cousin's education, she had a human skeleton that was kept in a small suitcase. I don't think we purposely brought the skeleton with us solely for our Park & Ride excursion; I believe it was for some unrelated shenanigans we were planning for later that evening.
So, we rolled into the Park & Ride, but instead of driving right into the middle of the action, we backed into a deserted corner so we could plot our strategy: Would we be looking for lovers, would we be brothers, were two of us an item and the third was looking for a companion? Meanwhile, other cars were cruising slowly, flashing lights, all the rest of it.
Suddenly, before we could react, a car pulled up right next to us, driver's side to driver's side. It was some little hatchback, a Datsun, maybe, and the guy — and I can remember his face like it was an hour ago — looked exactly like Michael Gross. You know...
Well, that's Michael Gross now. I mean back when he was on Family Ties.
Man, I'm getting the chills. It was this older man with a beard. Like Michael Gross (above). Very non-threatening in an '80s-sitcom-dad-who's-not-a-complete-buffoon-like-most-sitcom-dads sort of way. His window's rolled down and he makes the universal "roll down your window" gesture. Brad is totally crapping his pants, and I know this because Brad has this open-mouth, toothless gaping grin that he displays when he's very freaked out.
Brad rolls down the window. Michael Gross flashes a toothy smile, gives us a "How ya doin'" nod, and says, kind of suggestively:
"Looks like you got a full car there!"
What happened next, I found out later from Brad, happened because he expected me to carry the ball for this encounter. But I didn't, because Michael Gross was on Brad's side of the car, and Michael Gross seemed to be directing his conversation at Brad, not me.
With that crazy "I think we're gonna die" smile, Brad nodded at Michael Gross and replied, "Basically." This is where Brad expected me to jump in, and I didn't, so there was this extremely awkward pause as Brad looked at me (he kept that smile the whole time), turned back to Michael Gross (who also was smiling the whole time), then back at me, then back at Michael Gross...
...I should mention that at this point, Rich was in the back, holding up the skull...
...and then finally, Brad started to slooooowly pull away. He turned back to Michael Gross and said, weakly, "'Bye!" and then we drove away.
THE END?
So that's the Park & Ride story. These are the only final observations I can make:
- Meredith Baxter (formerly Meredith Baxter-Birney), who played Michael Gross' wife on Family Ties, recently released a book in which she reveals that she is gay.
- "Looks like you got a full car there" was my pickup line throughout my college years, even when the intended target was not in an automobile. The line was never successful.
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