ANOTHER YEAR... More adventures (Part 168a)

ANOTHER YEAR… More adventures (Part 168a)

Thinking that I ‘had it made’ as far as going to the party at Michael’s and still being able to get home at a reasonable time, I put on my coat and was about to head out the door. One of the last people I expected to see still in the building was Hobie and he was headed in my direction. My reaction was “What now?” but I kept it in. I was in a position to see the clock on the wall and it wasn’t quite 5pm when I took a glance at it. Hobie didn’t have his coat on and that should’ve been a hint. “Got a minute?” Was what I heard. Now, even if you didn’t, you wouldn’t tell your boss that… so I responded with “Sure!” and in a positive way. It seems that Jerry had taken all my personnel manipulations as a personal affront and had ‘unloaded’ on Hobie about it. Hobie wasn’t upset because I’d let him know, after the fact, and he’d approved the moves. What I hadn’t told him was that Jerry wasn’t a part of the discussion and he wanted to know why. As patiently as I could I explained that almost all of it had been done from my home while I was on a vacation day and trying to prepare for Christmas. I told him I weighed the ‘pros and cons’ of all of it trying to put the best interests of the bank and the customers first. With the ‘busy period’ staring me in the face I did not want to go into it shorthanded. The last part initiated his asking just why Woody had resigned. Still able to see the clock I saw it was now after 5pm. It took maybe ten minutes to go through the efforts that Lorie, Trish and I’d put into finding the reason(s). Finally, he stuck out his hand and wished me and my family a “Happy New Year”. Walking out the door I wondered just what all that had accomplished.

I chose to walk to Michael’s as the only parking was behind the place and not well lit. It was also a difficult place to exit from and I’d witnessed a few ‘fender benders’ at that location. By the time I reached there it was probably close to 5:30pm. Walking in, I looked for some familiar faces and only saw a couple of the newer employees at the brokerage office. I wondered where Stan, Bill, Ruthe and Lynda were since they were the ones supposedly hosting the affair. I saw Michael behind the bar and headed in his direction. Before I could say a word I heard him say “Thank God! Someone to help me!” As you can imagine I was at a loss for words or anything after a greeting like that. I made it up to the bar and he pointed me to the open end of it. Once there he said he had a major problem and started walking into the lounge part of the establishment. As I’d described in an earlier post, this was a fairly large room but also a dark room. He felt the dimness made it more like a “real lounge”. There was a mix of tables, mostly in the center with half booths rimming it. I followed him to a booth just inside the room and there, slumped in a booth, was Lynda.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she was drunk… and as soon as she saw me it was confirmed. I didn’t understand what she said to greet me but she made an attempt to get up. That wasn’t pretty! I asked Michael where the others from the office were and he said they’d left around 4pm. Concerned that they’d left Lynda in this state I asked why she was still there. He had a half-assed guilty look on his face when he told me they thought she’d left and said he’d made the mistake of confirming it. He went on that there'd been a lot of people coming and going all afternoon and he couldn’t keep up with everybody. He then said that she’d obviously come into the back area and possibly passed out. I asked if he knew what she’d been drinking and he said he didn’t know because she’d never come up to the bar. But this is where it got real ‘interesting’. He told me that someone had heard a voice coming from the back room demanding a drink and that’s how he found her. When he wouldn’t provide her with a drink she reached into her pocketbook and found her car keys and announced that if she wasn’t going to get served there she was going to find a place that would give her a drink. By then they were calling for Michael out at the bar. He looked at me and asked if I could "do something with her”.

At first I didn’t know what to say or do. I knew she was way too drunk to drive and I also knew the Corvette she used was owned by the Chevrolet dealership owned by her father-in law. If she wrecked that… well… But the thing was what to do with her in her present state. While Michael and I’d been talking (or trying to talk) she’d been babbling on. I knew she knew who I was so I decided I sit down and at least try to talk her out of the car keys. If you’ve been reading this over the past few months there was a strong suspicion that she ‘had her eyes on me’. I was too upset to pay any attention to the words she was mumbling at me and concentrated on trying to lure the car keys from her grasp. Time meant nothing in this situation and I have no idea how long it was before she made an offer to give them to me if I’d kiss her. I was sitting next to her and quite close because I’d made a couple of attempts to grab the keys from her hand. I know it’s hard to believe that in just such a situation I wasn’t tempted but I managed to hold her off. I finally got her attention by yelling her name at her. She stopped trying to talk and looked straight at me. Knowing I had but a few seconds I told her that if she gave me her keys I’d drive her home and she could get a drink there. The reaction? A blank stare. But, she let the keys slip from her hand and onto the floor. I was on them in a heartbeat.

I went back into the bar area dangling the keys from my hand. I heard Michael sort of exhale “Thank god!”. I asked if he knew where her car was. He told me it was probably out behind his place because he thought she’d come into the place from the back. A quick look out the back door and there it was… a 1968 white Corvette hardtop. It really struck me… that I was actually going to drive a Corvette. I’d never even sat in one even though I was considered a “motor head”. The thought of it was actually a bit daunting. However, the reality of the situation was that I had to get Lynda out to and then in the car. As I’ve written, she wasn’t exactly a small woman and, in her drunken state, she wasn’t going to be of any help. Lynda called out to me as I headed back into the bar area to get Michael or someone to help me. I didn’t stop, guessing that all she wanted was another drink. Micheal was very busy and hailed one of the people at the bar to come give me a hand. I thought I recognized him as a customer at the brokerage office.  Michael explained the situation to him and we headed to back to get Lynda.

The best description I can give of her is that we saw what had been a very pretty young woman who now looked like she’d been in a street fight. Her hair was disheveled and her blouse was half out of her skirt. She was slumped into the booth with one leg up on the seat and the other splayed out in front of her. The hem of her skirt was well above the knee of the leg sticking out into the room but not enough to get a peek. The guy was a bit shocked when he saw her. I told him where the car was parked and we proceeded to get her up with each of us holding her by grabbing her under her arms. I honestly don’t remember her protesting until we got her outside by the car and opened the passenger side door. It was then that she demanded her keys and started to try and twist out of our grip. Fortunately, she didn’t hurt herself as she sort of fell into the car. I, taking advantage of the opportunity, grabbed her legs and stuffed them inside the car and shut the door.
   

This is NOT Lynda's Corvette but it is exactly like it...

  To be continued...