“She was just so full of life. No one expected something like this. The community was shaken up.” The classics of murder documentary catch phrases. It’s really a wonder I didn’t end up on one of those.
News Flash: Teens can make bad decisions. While I’m living proof that adults can also possess that skill, this is a story about some of my questionable decisions I made with my undercooked brain.
I was a shiny new adult waiting tables at my first real job at the truck stop. Full of hope, wonder, and the dangerous belief that nothing bad could happen to me.
Maybe it’s also no surprise, but I was a giant dork then too. “Quirky,” if you will. Certainly not the girl that would be showered with compliments or lavished with boy attention.
So,…naturally I blushed painfully when the handsome young man was in my section to wait on. Emphasis on “painfully.” Being the person I was, flirting was not my forte. I’m sure I resembled someone passing a kidney stone with everything he said to me. We’d chatted throughout his meal. He stayed long after. He left saying that he was headed back home to Nevada.
After a couple of hours, he returned. He gave one of those lines that would sink a person like me. Something akin to “I knew I would regret it if I didn’t come back and get to know you better.”
Don’t worry, this won’t evolve into a naughty story. I wasn’t that boy crazy.
But, it will evolve into something cringe worthy. After work, he and I got in my car and I drove him to see Shasta Dam. Just me and whoever he was. I didn’t tell anyone I was headed out with a stranger to a dark secluded location in the wee hours of the morning. You know, because that’s safe.
This was in the days when there were no cell phones. No security footage to review from my last known whereabouts. Nothing of the like. Luckily, he wasn’t intent on any nefarious activity, murder or otherwise. We remained pen pals for a while. Legitimate letters were sent back and forth. Postmarked from Nevada, for real. Bullet of blind faith effectively dodged.
I should have realized that I needed to be safer. Instead, I did something else.
At the truck stop, there are customers who are regulars even though they’re from far off places. A lot were from Seattle. It was the early 90’s and Seattle was the shit. So, when a regular invited me to visit there; I did what any overly trusting 19 year old would; I fueled up the yellow Prelude, opened the sun roof, and headed north.
As evidence that fully cooked adults can also make bad decisions, a co-worker asked me to take her children to Oregon and drop them off. Who does that? Kids were dropped off with who I guess were the right people, and onward I pressed.
I did not see the regular customer as a potential mate. He was a nice man, to be sure; but his look was a combination of Mike Ditka and stereotypical 70s era Italian gangster. PS it was not the 70s. I’m sure he worked hard, putting in a lot of OTR miles to get the weighty gold chain he wore. Nice man. Probably someone’s exact type. Not mine, but someone’s.
Looking back, I’m not sure what I expected to happen out of this experience. Maybe to find some strapping young grunge Seattle man in his flannel ready to take me to hear Eddie Vedder croon. That’s not what happened.
Instead, what did happen was I was met at the door of the humble home he shared with his mother by his two daughters, maybe 8 and 10.
They were extremely excited to meet me. This is what a grown-up would call a “red flag.” Baby me didn’t see it though. Baby me grew up a lot though when they said “are you going to be our new mom?” Shortly thereafter I was showered with the quintessential claiming gift of the time, black hills gold. I’m sure my jaw went slack as the light slowly started to come on for me. “Wait a second,…he….oh….no.”
I grew up a lot in those couple days. Nothing will teach you about learning to gracefully back pedal and regroup quite like being a 19 yr old in a situation you should have seen coming. Prelude and I beat feet back to C’wd.
Maybe the modern popularity of murder documentaries and podcasts would have scared some sense in to me. Maybe not. Maybe we all have to make questionable decisions to appreciate the good ones we be still making. Probably one of the best take aways from questionable decisions is the ability maintain hope in the growing up process. Teens are like turkeys that have that crispy golden skin, but are still undercooked on the inside. They look like the real deal that is an adult, but their internal temperature is still at that point that will make you sick. We got through it, and we need to know that they will get through it too.
Thanks for reading!
Bifocals and Barbells 