Friday, May 10, 2013

You want fries with that?

Circa 1959. Lubbock, Texas. This is insider stuff.

The Mystery Woman and I were struggling college students contemplating marriage (which didn’t happen, at least not to each other, but that’s another story).

As the potential man of the house, I took it as my duty to find us a house.

“Honey, honey. I found a good deal on a mobile home parked right behind the hamburger stand.” This was way before manufactured housing, slide-outs and vaulted ceilings. Although there was nice oilcloth in the bath.

We thought about it and demurred. And for some reason, we broke up and didn’t have contact for nearly 50 years. But we rectified that six or seven years ago.

This morning, I was playing “what if” at breakfast when my bulb flashed, “Honey, we would have that trailer house paid off by now.”

“And we would own the Dairy Queen, too,” she yawned.


3 comments:

Ken Martin said...

Cute story, George.

Something similar in terms of high-school relationships that fizzled and were rekindled later, the same thing happened to our daughter, now 35. In January she moved to the Boston area to live with a guy she dated in high school.

George said...

The 50-year hiatus is somewhat like amnesia. But I have an over-active imagination anyway.

Tim O'Keefe said...

HA! You crack me up. But there are readers who want to know the rest of the story. Inquiring minds...

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