KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166t)
The last thing I wanted
to do was to get Elle upset. She’d been concerned ever since migrants
had been found living in the neighboring house. I’d talked with Andy,
the real estate agent for the sale of the house, about making sure it
was locked and the windows latched. He assured me he’d taken care of it.
I hadn’t seen or talked with him in quite a while so decided to reach
out to him. Calling the police would certainly bring attention that
would upset Elle. My problem was our main phone was in the hallway right
off the kitchen. The only other phone was in our bedroom and with
supper ready to be served I knew it’d be hard to come up a reason to go
up there. I was still on the patio when it came to me… take off my dusty
clothes outside and make a mad dash upstairs for clean ones. She wasn’t
all that happy but I was already in the hall when she yelled at me. I
grabbed the book with phone numbers that we frequently used as I passed
by the phone. By the time I got to the top of the stairs I realized the
chances of getting Andy at home on a Saturday night were pretty slim.
Fortunately, he still lived with his parents and his father answered. He
said he had keys and would come right over. Before hanging up he asked
if Andy had let me know there was work going on inside the house. Before
I could answer I heard him sort of mutter “Of course he didn’t”. What I
remember most about the call was how mad his father was at Andy.
By
the time I got to the table Elle was in a snit. I tried to explain I
didn’t want to bring the dust and mold from the leaves into the house
and hoped she’d calm down. I offered to play games with the kids in an
effort to get back in her good graces. It was while I was doing that the
the phone rang. Elle answered and came in to the living room saying
some guy wanted to talk to me about the house next door. It was Andy’s
father. It had been over an hour since I’d called. He was all apologetic
about the fact that Andy hadn’t let me know there would be painters
there for a few days. He went on that they’d been stripping off
wallpaper and wanted to finish it up. There were no lights and so they
had taken a flashlight and put it on a stepladder and forgotten it. I
was relieved to hear that and went on to ask why the house was being
painted… had it been sold? The answer to the last part was “No…” but one
couple had been back for a second look. They’d commented that the rooms
on the North side of the house were just too dark. I thought back to
when I’d been in the house and remembered all the bedrooms had
wallpaper. I also remembered that the willow tree that was on the
property line near the front of the house pretty much blocked any sun
from getting to the Northwest corner. So a decision was made to get rid
of the wallpaper and to paint all the second floor rooms a light color
in an effort to make it more desirable. (It’s funny writing this because
in today’s world it seems you have to have a professional decorate your
house before you can sell it.) I remember asking who the painter was
and being told it was someone who’d just moved to town and he couldn’t
pronounce his name. Of course Elle wanted to know who the call was from
and what it was about. I didn’t tell her the actual sequence of events
and made it seem like I knew what was going on over there and wanted to
let the real estate agent know there were still lights on. That
generated a conversation on how much she wished the place would sell. It
also generated the thought that having Sabrina living there again would
be welcome. She was a PITA but a nice PITA. I didn’t want to get Elle's
hopes up too high but still told her that some people had been there
two times so there reeally was some interest.
The highlight of
Sunday was that the new clothing items that had been put out at the
church’s Thrift Shoppe had gotten a lot of interest and the ’take’ for
the day had been over $200. With Winter coming that was like insurance
in that we’d be able to afford to heat the church. The other church item
that was of concern was the septic system. I’d had it checked by a guy
I’d met while working for the County who worked for the Health
Department. His assessment was fairly terse… “Borrowed time…”. It would
take too much to explain other than the church building was over 100
years old and when indoor plumbing came into vogue the church members
did it themselves. If you’ve heard the name “Rube Goldberg” used for
some oddly designed things… well, this certainly qualified. In any case,
I knew we still had some more good clothes yet to put out and if they
garnered the same amount of money we might be OK.
After the
’busy period’ the routine at the bank had settled down and it seemed
like the most pressing thing was now who was going to wear which costume
for the Halloween contest. As I said, I vowed not to get directly
involved in the process. I’d found a source for the costumes and that
was all. However, I had both my eyes and ears open to try and get a gist
of what was happening. I won’t deny that at times I wanted to ask but
stayed out of it. One of the nice things about the weeks after the ‘busy
period’ was that I could go to lunch without feeling guilty. I’d made a
purchase of stock at the recommendation of my broker and had been
trying to follow it. Because it was a brand new listing there wasn’t
much information available so decided to head over to the brokerage. As I
walked in the door, Lynda, my broker’s assistant, was on her way out.
She asked if I’d like to join her and that was a ‘no brainer’. I’d eaten
with her at the restaurant located right across from the office a few
times and was comfortable going there. Michael, the owner, greeted me by
name which was a bit of a surprise. I’d go there about once a month
with the crew from the data processing office back when I worked for the
County. If he remembered from back then… well, I was impressed.
Lynda
was anxious to talk so I let her. It was about her husband and his Army
reserve duty. In previous conversations with her I’d gathered that he’d
avoided being called up by using less than honorable means. Even though
he was now on active duty there was some kind of investigation going on
concerning how he’d been able to evade his service duty… and she was
concerned. Knowing nothing about service requirements all I could do was
sit and listen. By the time we were getting ready to leave I’d still
not gotten any information on my stock. We were sitting in a booth with
Lynda on one side and me on the other. I’d not paid much, if any,
attention to her body movements while she was talking but when I stood
up I had to do a double take. She’d slid her body over to the wall and
had pulled one leg up on the seat… and pulled the hem of her skirt up as
well. I should’ve known, or at least expected it, based on some of my
experiences over at the office. She was looking right at my face and
when I saw her smile I knew I’d been ‘had’. My face was still red when
we walked out the door and she was still smiling.
To be continued…
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Friday, April 27, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166s)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166s)
Elle was on the phone for quite a while. It was enough time for me to complete my inspection of all four of the panties, fold them up and make a trip to the basement to temporarily hide them until I could get to the attic and to my ‘stash’. While looking them over I remember wondering what the woman’s panty drawer might’ve looked like. A positive was that I’d been exposed to three new lingerie companies. After hiding the panties in with my sign painting supplies I returned to find Elle looking for me. I had to scramble to come up with a reason for having gone down to the basement. I wasn’t sure she fully accepted my reason but didn’t dwell on it as she wanted to pass on what she’d learned from her telephone call.
Basically, the new secretary was given the job of contacting the substitute teachers with the principal no longer involved. The woman had worked for the County in some kind of clerical/ administrative position. She’d been given a list of registered substitutes and, supposedly, was choosing them randomly. The woman who Elle talked with had only been called twice and she didn’t think there had been that much need for substitutes. Elle seemed to be satisfied that the lack of calls had anything to do with our situation with Barbara, the principal’s daughter, from back when she’d stayed with us. My reaction was for her to try and stay in touch with some of the other teachers to monitor what was going on. Fortunately, at the time we weren’t counting on money from her teaching… but once Winter set in it would be a different story.
I won’t deny I was a bit interested in who chose which costumes but had vowed (to myself) not to get involved. Trish seemed be on top of it so I wasn’t focused on that when I arrived at the bank the next morning. It was more like an ambush when Woody stepped out into the lobby from the tellers area right in front of me.There was no denying she was cute and it was turning out that there was no denying that she went after what she wanted. Totally unprepared, I was presented with a list of why she should be the Cheshire Cat. So surprised, I didn’t hear most of what she said. However, I did hear one thing that did make sense. The drive in area where she worked was also a hallway to the ladies bathroom and narrow as well. The cat suit was one piece and didn’t take up a lot of area space. I hadn’t thought of that, at all. To get out of the situation without having to make a decision I told her that Trish was overseeing the program and I’d have to speak to her. That’s when I got the ‘look’. Her natural persona was ‘bubbly’ and it seemed like she wore a perpetual smile. When she looked at me those attributes had a ‘flirty’ look to go with it. As I walked back to my desk I was wondering if I hadn’t misjudged her and that she was wiser in her ways than I’d figured.
Rather than let the matter simmer I called both Trish and Bret to my desk to talk about the whole costume idea. As I’ve written, to me it was an unneeded annoyance. But I pretty much realized that it was a necessary evil. I didn’t bring up Woody’s request but did focus on the costumes themselves and how much space they would take up. We all agreed that Humpty Dumpty was out of the question. Trish said she liked the Mad Hatter one but none of the three girls was tall enough for it to work. That was when Trish went to work on Bret saying that he’d make a perfect Mad Hatter. I immediately liked the idea and, in spite of Bret’s protestations, I sent Trish to get the hat that went with it. He wasn’t going to put it on until I spoke up and told him to do it. Trish convinced him to just step into the small bathroom that was right there and try it on. It fit him perfectly and after seeing himself in the mirror thought he looked pretty good in it. The bank was open to the public and although none of the three of us had any customers I felt it was time to get on to more serious work.
It was when Bret returned from lunch that he stepped up to my desk and said that if the costume fit that he’d play the role of the Mad Hatter. He talked with his wife about it and she encouraged him to go through with it. He added that he was doing it for his kids. Naturally, he was anxious to see if the jacket and pants fit so I told him to go on up to the board room and try them on. I really didn't want to get fully back on the subject but I did allow myself to think about Woody’s request. Another choice that I felt would work for her in the drive up area was the White Rabbit so made a point to go speak to her about while I was thinking about it. I could see disappointment in her face but she didn’t say anything. Walking away I knew we still had some time to work it out.
As I’ve written before, I seldom talked about work with Elle. But this costume thing was something she was very much involved with with her 4H group. She and a few other parents had worked with the girls to make their own costumes for the big affair at the school on Halloween night. I told her that we had some of the costumes from the Alice in Wonderland show that had been performed at our little local theater. She laughed and said that was the theme that her 4H girls had decided upon. It was ironic to hear her say that a lot of the kids wanted to be the Cheshire Cat. I remember her reaction when I told her Bret was going to dress as the Mad Hatter and she suggested that he’d make a perfect Humpty Dumpty. I agreed but explained that we all still had to do a normal day of work while dressed in these outfits. She laughed and said it might be worth the trip to see the people in costume.
Even though I really didn’t want any part of the Thrift Shoppe at the church, my curiosity made me stop by on Saturday morning on my way to the landfill to see how the new things I’d brought back from the city were being presented. There were already some people looking when I walked in. I was impressed that the new were separated from the stuff that had been there for a while. I also took notice of the pricing of them. They had taken heed to my suggestion and hadn’t priced the things based upon what they might really be worth but at a value people could afford. I also noticed the shoes were displayed but not prominently. I didn’t check on the pricing but hoped they’d done the same with them. I still wasn’t enthusiastic about the venture but couldn’t ignore the monetary success that it had shown so far. I was about to leave when I heard a female complain about not having a room or space where she could try things on. Hearing that I knew it was time to leave.
The rest of the weekend was anything but exciting. The end of October meant falling leaves and plenty of them. I can’t begin to explain how thankful I was that our farmer neighbor, John, had told me to just push the leaves out into the farm field. I always tried to do it when the wind blew out of the North so they would blow away from the property. However, that wasn’t always the case and this weekend was one of those times. I swear that I raked some of those leaves three or four times. When I finished up it was just about dark so when I was walking up the path to the kitchen door I could see some faint light coming from the second floor of the empty house next door. I remember just standing there wishing that someone would buy it. But, right then and there, I had to decide what to do… call the real estate agent or the police.
To be continued…
Elle was on the phone for quite a while. It was enough time for me to complete my inspection of all four of the panties, fold them up and make a trip to the basement to temporarily hide them until I could get to the attic and to my ‘stash’. While looking them over I remember wondering what the woman’s panty drawer might’ve looked like. A positive was that I’d been exposed to three new lingerie companies. After hiding the panties in with my sign painting supplies I returned to find Elle looking for me. I had to scramble to come up with a reason for having gone down to the basement. I wasn’t sure she fully accepted my reason but didn’t dwell on it as she wanted to pass on what she’d learned from her telephone call.
Basically, the new secretary was given the job of contacting the substitute teachers with the principal no longer involved. The woman had worked for the County in some kind of clerical/ administrative position. She’d been given a list of registered substitutes and, supposedly, was choosing them randomly. The woman who Elle talked with had only been called twice and she didn’t think there had been that much need for substitutes. Elle seemed to be satisfied that the lack of calls had anything to do with our situation with Barbara, the principal’s daughter, from back when she’d stayed with us. My reaction was for her to try and stay in touch with some of the other teachers to monitor what was going on. Fortunately, at the time we weren’t counting on money from her teaching… but once Winter set in it would be a different story.
I won’t deny I was a bit interested in who chose which costumes but had vowed (to myself) not to get involved. Trish seemed be on top of it so I wasn’t focused on that when I arrived at the bank the next morning. It was more like an ambush when Woody stepped out into the lobby from the tellers area right in front of me.There was no denying she was cute and it was turning out that there was no denying that she went after what she wanted. Totally unprepared, I was presented with a list of why she should be the Cheshire Cat. So surprised, I didn’t hear most of what she said. However, I did hear one thing that did make sense. The drive in area where she worked was also a hallway to the ladies bathroom and narrow as well. The cat suit was one piece and didn’t take up a lot of area space. I hadn’t thought of that, at all. To get out of the situation without having to make a decision I told her that Trish was overseeing the program and I’d have to speak to her. That’s when I got the ‘look’. Her natural persona was ‘bubbly’ and it seemed like she wore a perpetual smile. When she looked at me those attributes had a ‘flirty’ look to go with it. As I walked back to my desk I was wondering if I hadn’t misjudged her and that she was wiser in her ways than I’d figured.
Rather than let the matter simmer I called both Trish and Bret to my desk to talk about the whole costume idea. As I’ve written, to me it was an unneeded annoyance. But I pretty much realized that it was a necessary evil. I didn’t bring up Woody’s request but did focus on the costumes themselves and how much space they would take up. We all agreed that Humpty Dumpty was out of the question. Trish said she liked the Mad Hatter one but none of the three girls was tall enough for it to work. That was when Trish went to work on Bret saying that he’d make a perfect Mad Hatter. I immediately liked the idea and, in spite of Bret’s protestations, I sent Trish to get the hat that went with it. He wasn’t going to put it on until I spoke up and told him to do it. Trish convinced him to just step into the small bathroom that was right there and try it on. It fit him perfectly and after seeing himself in the mirror thought he looked pretty good in it. The bank was open to the public and although none of the three of us had any customers I felt it was time to get on to more serious work.
It was when Bret returned from lunch that he stepped up to my desk and said that if the costume fit that he’d play the role of the Mad Hatter. He talked with his wife about it and she encouraged him to go through with it. He added that he was doing it for his kids. Naturally, he was anxious to see if the jacket and pants fit so I told him to go on up to the board room and try them on. I really didn't want to get fully back on the subject but I did allow myself to think about Woody’s request. Another choice that I felt would work for her in the drive up area was the White Rabbit so made a point to go speak to her about while I was thinking about it. I could see disappointment in her face but she didn’t say anything. Walking away I knew we still had some time to work it out.
As I’ve written before, I seldom talked about work with Elle. But this costume thing was something she was very much involved with with her 4H group. She and a few other parents had worked with the girls to make their own costumes for the big affair at the school on Halloween night. I told her that we had some of the costumes from the Alice in Wonderland show that had been performed at our little local theater. She laughed and said that was the theme that her 4H girls had decided upon. It was ironic to hear her say that a lot of the kids wanted to be the Cheshire Cat. I remember her reaction when I told her Bret was going to dress as the Mad Hatter and she suggested that he’d make a perfect Humpty Dumpty. I agreed but explained that we all still had to do a normal day of work while dressed in these outfits. She laughed and said it might be worth the trip to see the people in costume.
Even though I really didn’t want any part of the Thrift Shoppe at the church, my curiosity made me stop by on Saturday morning on my way to the landfill to see how the new things I’d brought back from the city were being presented. There were already some people looking when I walked in. I was impressed that the new were separated from the stuff that had been there for a while. I also took notice of the pricing of them. They had taken heed to my suggestion and hadn’t priced the things based upon what they might really be worth but at a value people could afford. I also noticed the shoes were displayed but not prominently. I didn’t check on the pricing but hoped they’d done the same with them. I still wasn’t enthusiastic about the venture but couldn’t ignore the monetary success that it had shown so far. I was about to leave when I heard a female complain about not having a room or space where she could try things on. Hearing that I knew it was time to leave.
The rest of the weekend was anything but exciting. The end of October meant falling leaves and plenty of them. I can’t begin to explain how thankful I was that our farmer neighbor, John, had told me to just push the leaves out into the farm field. I always tried to do it when the wind blew out of the North so they would blow away from the property. However, that wasn’t always the case and this weekend was one of those times. I swear that I raked some of those leaves three or four times. When I finished up it was just about dark so when I was walking up the path to the kitchen door I could see some faint light coming from the second floor of the empty house next door. I remember just standing there wishing that someone would buy it. But, right then and there, I had to decide what to do… call the real estate agent or the police.
To be continued…
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy busy, busy (Part 166r)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166r)
My natural reaction was to keep digging in the carton hoping to find more panties. However, it wasn’t to be. The other boxes held brand new nylon stockings (the old style, for use with garters) still in their original packaging, nylon half slips and brand new bras still in boxes. I quickly put those back in the carton and started to ‘inspect’ the panties. There were only four which was a bit of a disappointment. I started to spread them out and could see they were bigger than what Elle wore. A peek inside one to read the label gave me the reason… size 6. However, before I made it any further I saw headlights coming up the driveway. The first thing I did was to grab the panties and stuff them in a drawer of my desk located in the den. Then I started dumping the shoes back into the carton. When I heard the kitchen door open I reversed course and started taking them back out so Elle would think I’d just started to empty it. She was a bit shocked but was more interested in telling me what she’d found out about her situation at the school.
Nanci, her friend and former secretary for the school principal, couldn’t give her anything ‘concrete’. But Nanci did tell her that she’d been told by another substitute teacher that she’d been told she could count on being called on a regular basis. When I heard that I got upset. From the time Elle had started as a substitute teacher those on the list worked their way up by their availability. This was done to save the person assigned to find a substitute a lot of time and to also give the person called more time to prepare. What I heard was that the principal was choosing favorites and I didn’t like it… at all! We discussed what Elle could do about it and I suggested that she call to set up an appointment with the principal. Elle had a log of all the days she’d been called in the past and I suggested she have it when she went to the school.
After putting the kids to bed Elle came back to look at the shoes. I remember that she thought they were too “upscale” for our area and especially the clientele buying things at the shop. But, having said that she proceeded to pick out a couple of ‘dress shoes’ for special occasions. I didn’t let on that I was aware of the boxes at the bottom and let her be the one to open them. She made the observation that the slips were nice but were too big for her. However, she did keep the stockings. All the clothes were still stacked on the living room sofa and chairs from the night before. Knowing that there was no storage space at the church we picked over the clothes choosing items we thought might sell right away. Naturally, that took more time than I’d hoped as I wanted to get a closer look at the four panties I’d discovered earlier.
We usually went upstairs to bed together. I was trying to come up with a way to have her go before I did but couldn’t come up with one I felt she would accept without questioning me so we ended up going together. With my mind on the panties I couldn’t stop thinking about why the mother had singled them out. In the short time I’d handled them I’d been impressed with how fancy they were. The slips were also ‘fancy’ reinforcing the fact that the deceased woman had not only money but good taste as well. As I fell asleep I’d come up with the idea that the mother just couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. I was glad she hadn’t and was looking forward to seeing them in the morning.
It just didn’t work out for me to get to inspect the panties before leaving for work. I did manage to move them to a better hiding place before leaving. I knew the minister was usually at the church around 8am so loaded two cartons into my car to leave off with him. At the church I explained what Elle and I’d done as far as sorting the items and our ideas on pricing them. He seemed to agree that not putting everything out at once was a good idea but wanted to get as much money as possible for “good goods”. It wasn’t my ‘call’ so I kept my mouth shut. Before leaving I told him about the shoes and my concerns about them but he convinced me to bring them with the next batch of stuff. Walking out to my car I wondered how I’d gotten so involved in this whole project.
The day started at work with some good news. The guys from the ad agency had packed up some costumes for the girls who had volunteered to participate in the Halloween costume contest and left them off. There were two boxes and the only place to put them was up in the Board room. It was also the only place with room enough to try them on so Bret helped me carry them up and to lay them out on the table. It became very obvious that they were all from the Alice in Wonderland performance the local theatre group had put on back in the Spring. I hadn’t seen it but Elle had taken the older girls and said it was “cute”. I wasn’t all that familiar with the characters but a couple were pretty obvious. The Cheshire Cat was one with the purple and pink outfit. Humpty Dumpty, the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit didn’t leave much doubt either. Of course, there was Alice’s outfit to complete the scene. My immediate concern was how the costumes would fit the three volunteers. I’d found a note for us not to do any alterations which would make it somewhat difficult. I instructed Bret to have Trish bring the girls up to the Board room around 4:30pm to not only make their choices but, more importantly, to see if they fit.
Joanie still wasn’t ‘sold’ on the idea but I hoped that with Trish being involved it would help. I observed them gathered at Trish’s desk and was pleased to see that Woody seemed to be excited about it. Eileen was always ‘good to go’ but her problem was going to be finding a costume that would look good on her almost anorexic body. But that was for them to work it out. I made a mental note of who I thought would take which costume and couldn’t wait to find out the results. I was sure Joanie would end up being Alice but Woody had that same innocent look. Because the Cheshire Cat was a one piece item I figured Eileen to take that one. If any ‘fill’ was necessary there would certainly be room for it. When Trish returned it was without any decisions. She told me the three of them were going to work it out among themselves. I asked for a hint and all I got was a shrug of her shoulders.
On my way home all I could do was hope I’d get the opportunity to do my panty inspection that evening. If it were still Summertime there would’ve been no doubt because everybody would head outside as soon as supper was over. But not anymore. Sitting in the den watching TV after dinner was like torture because I could see the desk with the panties hidden inside a drawer. When Elle went upstairs to put Kaye to bed I did get up and retrieve them, stuffing them under a cushion on the sofa. It was like torture. If I hadn’t seen them and touched them it wouldn’t have been so bad. Then… the phone rang. It was another teacher calling to give Elle some information on what was happening in the realm of substitute teachers. I made a decision that it was probably my best chance for looking at the panties so I grabbed them and headed for the kitchen table. It turned out to be worth the wait. I found it interesting that each was made by a different manufacturer. The label in the one in the picture from the previous post only had one word… “Nylon”. Each of the other three, all fancy panties with lace appliqués across the front, was made by a different company, none of which I recognized. All were size 6 with the Gilead panties being nylon satin tricot.
To be continued...
My natural reaction was to keep digging in the carton hoping to find more panties. However, it wasn’t to be. The other boxes held brand new nylon stockings (the old style, for use with garters) still in their original packaging, nylon half slips and brand new bras still in boxes. I quickly put those back in the carton and started to ‘inspect’ the panties. There were only four which was a bit of a disappointment. I started to spread them out and could see they were bigger than what Elle wore. A peek inside one to read the label gave me the reason… size 6. However, before I made it any further I saw headlights coming up the driveway. The first thing I did was to grab the panties and stuff them in a drawer of my desk located in the den. Then I started dumping the shoes back into the carton. When I heard the kitchen door open I reversed course and started taking them back out so Elle would think I’d just started to empty it. She was a bit shocked but was more interested in telling me what she’d found out about her situation at the school.
Nanci, her friend and former secretary for the school principal, couldn’t give her anything ‘concrete’. But Nanci did tell her that she’d been told by another substitute teacher that she’d been told she could count on being called on a regular basis. When I heard that I got upset. From the time Elle had started as a substitute teacher those on the list worked their way up by their availability. This was done to save the person assigned to find a substitute a lot of time and to also give the person called more time to prepare. What I heard was that the principal was choosing favorites and I didn’t like it… at all! We discussed what Elle could do about it and I suggested that she call to set up an appointment with the principal. Elle had a log of all the days she’d been called in the past and I suggested she have it when she went to the school.
After putting the kids to bed Elle came back to look at the shoes. I remember that she thought they were too “upscale” for our area and especially the clientele buying things at the shop. But, having said that she proceeded to pick out a couple of ‘dress shoes’ for special occasions. I didn’t let on that I was aware of the boxes at the bottom and let her be the one to open them. She made the observation that the slips were nice but were too big for her. However, she did keep the stockings. All the clothes were still stacked on the living room sofa and chairs from the night before. Knowing that there was no storage space at the church we picked over the clothes choosing items we thought might sell right away. Naturally, that took more time than I’d hoped as I wanted to get a closer look at the four panties I’d discovered earlier.
We usually went upstairs to bed together. I was trying to come up with a way to have her go before I did but couldn’t come up with one I felt she would accept without questioning me so we ended up going together. With my mind on the panties I couldn’t stop thinking about why the mother had singled them out. In the short time I’d handled them I’d been impressed with how fancy they were. The slips were also ‘fancy’ reinforcing the fact that the deceased woman had not only money but good taste as well. As I fell asleep I’d come up with the idea that the mother just couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. I was glad she hadn’t and was looking forward to seeing them in the morning.
It just didn’t work out for me to get to inspect the panties before leaving for work. I did manage to move them to a better hiding place before leaving. I knew the minister was usually at the church around 8am so loaded two cartons into my car to leave off with him. At the church I explained what Elle and I’d done as far as sorting the items and our ideas on pricing them. He seemed to agree that not putting everything out at once was a good idea but wanted to get as much money as possible for “good goods”. It wasn’t my ‘call’ so I kept my mouth shut. Before leaving I told him about the shoes and my concerns about them but he convinced me to bring them with the next batch of stuff. Walking out to my car I wondered how I’d gotten so involved in this whole project.
The day started at work with some good news. The guys from the ad agency had packed up some costumes for the girls who had volunteered to participate in the Halloween costume contest and left them off. There were two boxes and the only place to put them was up in the Board room. It was also the only place with room enough to try them on so Bret helped me carry them up and to lay them out on the table. It became very obvious that they were all from the Alice in Wonderland performance the local theatre group had put on back in the Spring. I hadn’t seen it but Elle had taken the older girls and said it was “cute”. I wasn’t all that familiar with the characters but a couple were pretty obvious. The Cheshire Cat was one with the purple and pink outfit. Humpty Dumpty, the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit didn’t leave much doubt either. Of course, there was Alice’s outfit to complete the scene. My immediate concern was how the costumes would fit the three volunteers. I’d found a note for us not to do any alterations which would make it somewhat difficult. I instructed Bret to have Trish bring the girls up to the Board room around 4:30pm to not only make their choices but, more importantly, to see if they fit.
Joanie still wasn’t ‘sold’ on the idea but I hoped that with Trish being involved it would help. I observed them gathered at Trish’s desk and was pleased to see that Woody seemed to be excited about it. Eileen was always ‘good to go’ but her problem was going to be finding a costume that would look good on her almost anorexic body. But that was for them to work it out. I made a mental note of who I thought would take which costume and couldn’t wait to find out the results. I was sure Joanie would end up being Alice but Woody had that same innocent look. Because the Cheshire Cat was a one piece item I figured Eileen to take that one. If any ‘fill’ was necessary there would certainly be room for it. When Trish returned it was without any decisions. She told me the three of them were going to work it out among themselves. I asked for a hint and all I got was a shrug of her shoulders.
On my way home all I could do was hope I’d get the opportunity to do my panty inspection that evening. If it were still Summertime there would’ve been no doubt because everybody would head outside as soon as supper was over. But not anymore. Sitting in the den watching TV after dinner was like torture because I could see the desk with the panties hidden inside a drawer. When Elle went upstairs to put Kaye to bed I did get up and retrieve them, stuffing them under a cushion on the sofa. It was like torture. If I hadn’t seen them and touched them it wouldn’t have been so bad. Then… the phone rang. It was another teacher calling to give Elle some information on what was happening in the realm of substitute teachers. I made a decision that it was probably my best chance for looking at the panties so I grabbed them and headed for the kitchen table. It turned out to be worth the wait. I found it interesting that each was made by a different manufacturer. The label in the one in the picture from the previous post only had one word… “Nylon”. Each of the other three, all fancy panties with lace appliqués across the front, was made by a different company, none of which I recognized. All were size 6 with the Gilead panties being nylon satin tricot.
 |
| Gilead |
 |
| Sherman |
 |
| Essence |
To be continued...
Monday, April 23, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166q)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166q)
It was a good thing that I’d taken an extra $20 when I left the bank. A taxi ride (even in those days) wasn’t all that cheap. I settled for a stale sandwich at Grand Central Station for my dinner and headed upstairs to my room. It was like an oversized closet but it was clean and cheap. In the morning I took a walk around the area before heading for the meeting. This was way before the vaunted ‘clean-up’ and in daylight it was possible to see just how squalid the area was. The meeting went well. The primary focus was on sub-committee appointments and all those present were encouraged to speak up about their concerns as it pertained to personnel matters. My main concern had to do with teller training especially for medium to smaller sized banks. We (they) didn’t have the monetary ability to go out and hire a trainer like the city banks did. In speaking to those present I told of how I’d tried to single out one person to do it but there was no one to train that person. Well, you know what happens when you open your mouth to identify a problem… you end up being put in charge of finding the answer. That, for sure, was not what I needed at that time. But, it was nice to know that in just a short time on the committee the ‘powers that be’ thought highly enough of me to give me the recognition.
One of my new bank acquaintances heard me express concern about getting a taxi at that time of day so I could retrieve my vehicle and offered to drive me to the location. I explained the situation and I remember a comment he made as we drove up to the front entrance… “She must’ve had a good job to afford to live here.” I knew her parents were upper middle class but his statement put her status at a higher plane. The doorman was there to give me access to the garage and as I got in I saw him sort of hover by the drivers side window. It took a few seconds for me to realize he was looking for a tip for having taken care of my station wagon and the contents. I reached into my wallet and pulled out $5. When he saw the amount I sensed he wasn’t thrilled with my generosity. However, I wasn’t going to be intimidated by someone I’d never see again.
Traffic, as expected, was horrendous. Three hours to go 85 miles. If the trip did nothing else it pretty much guaranteed that all my subsequent city visits would be by public transportation. It was definitely the lesser of two evils. At home Elle was all excited to take a look at the ‘loot’ I’d brought back from the city. With plenty of time to think on my way home I was able to put a couple of things together about the deceased woman. First off, as I said, her parents were fairly well off but not rich. However, seeing just a small part of her apartment was an ‘eye opener’. But the clincher was when the man who’d driven me to the apartment made his comment about her having to have had a really good job to live there. My thoughts were about what was hidden in those cartons in the back of the wagon. If she really was rich then most of the stuff would be good quality. I was almost as excited to see it as Elle was. But, like my grandfather would say, “First things first” and that was supper.
The boxes were fairly well marked. We knew which ones held blouses and tops as well as the ones with pants and shorts. After we all ate I took them into the house and put them in the living room. We didn’t have a plan as I’d expressed to Elle that if she were rich all of the stuff would be of good quality. I have no concept of numbers as we went through each carton… but there was a lot of stuff. In chatting with each other we decided to suggest to the minister that he put out a little of it at a time rather than create a ‘feeding frenzy’ if it all went on the tables at once. From a marketing standpoint I felt that ‘word of mouth’ about there being more to come might be a good thing. I'd brought in everything but the box marked “misc” and, with it being time for the 11pm news we decided it could wait. The woman was one size larger than Elle so there was little that she could pull out to keep. That was OK by me. If we had a concern it was going to be in pricing the things. Most came from big name department stores… Saks 5th Avenue… Best and Co… Lord and Taylor (when it was still a premier store) and Bergdorf Goodman. I told Elle that probably 95% of the women who came into the Thrift Shoppe had never been in any one of those stores so the names wouldn’t mean all that much. Therefore, whoever was pricing the goods had to “dumb the prices down” so it would sell. It might mean that there would be some really good bargains. But… I wanted no part of it.
The phone ringing at 7am was a real surprise. Elle had only been called in to teach once since school had started. Up to the beginning of the school year the secretary for the principal was a good friend of ours. But, when the school year began she’d been replaced so Elle no longer had an “in” when it came to knowing what was going on at the school. After the principal and his wife (and kids) had moved from next door into their new house we had no contact with them. I’d written that Barbara, their daughter, who’d stayed with us for a period of time back in the Spring had become ‘distant’ and avoided us. I had a theory as to why but neither of us followed up on it. However, it was now looking like we should’ve because Elle was being left out of the ‘loop’ when it came to getting calls to come in to teach. But, on this particular morning it was a positive call. Elle was all excited and we both forgot all about the clothing donation piled up in the living room. As Elle went out the door I told her to follow up with some of the teachers that she’d been called in for in the past to see if they had any idea what was going on.
I was anxious to get home to find out if Elle had any information on her situation. She didn’t have anything ‘concrete’ but had been told to get in touch with her friend, the principal’s ex secretary. She’d gotten a new job at the local bank in town. Elle told me she’d called her and been invited to come over after supper. To me, it was a start. Elle left me in charge of the kids (and the supper dishes) and headed off. She was back in just a minute wanting me to get the last carton I’d picked up in the city out of the station wagon. I’d forgotten about it, more concerned with repacking all the clothes we’d gone through the previous evening. Pulling it out from the back of the wagon I remember it being heavy and almost dropping it. I had no idea what was in it and decided to at least take a look while Elle was gone.
The older girls, thankfully, had some kind of homework which took them out of the way. Kaye, ever curious, wanted to see if anything in the box was for her. I got the tape off and lifted one corner of the top and all I saw was shoes. I remember thinking “Oh, no!”. When she saw them she went off to get a coloring book. Looking at the shoes stacked on top they all looked to be in good shape. The ladies at the church had decided against offering shoes for reasons I don’t remember but looking at the condition of these I was about to ask that they change their minds. I pulled at least a dozen out and they were of all types… and some looked new. As I pulled more out I saw some small boxes under them. I wasn’t expecting that so pushed some shoes aside to pull one out. To my great excitement it was a lingerie box. Popping it open I saw two full nylon slips. That made me reach down for another box only this one had no markings on it. When I opened it… well it was like my own special Christmas present… panties… and they weren’t new.
To be continued…
It was a good thing that I’d taken an extra $20 when I left the bank. A taxi ride (even in those days) wasn’t all that cheap. I settled for a stale sandwich at Grand Central Station for my dinner and headed upstairs to my room. It was like an oversized closet but it was clean and cheap. In the morning I took a walk around the area before heading for the meeting. This was way before the vaunted ‘clean-up’ and in daylight it was possible to see just how squalid the area was. The meeting went well. The primary focus was on sub-committee appointments and all those present were encouraged to speak up about their concerns as it pertained to personnel matters. My main concern had to do with teller training especially for medium to smaller sized banks. We (they) didn’t have the monetary ability to go out and hire a trainer like the city banks did. In speaking to those present I told of how I’d tried to single out one person to do it but there was no one to train that person. Well, you know what happens when you open your mouth to identify a problem… you end up being put in charge of finding the answer. That, for sure, was not what I needed at that time. But, it was nice to know that in just a short time on the committee the ‘powers that be’ thought highly enough of me to give me the recognition.
One of my new bank acquaintances heard me express concern about getting a taxi at that time of day so I could retrieve my vehicle and offered to drive me to the location. I explained the situation and I remember a comment he made as we drove up to the front entrance… “She must’ve had a good job to afford to live here.” I knew her parents were upper middle class but his statement put her status at a higher plane. The doorman was there to give me access to the garage and as I got in I saw him sort of hover by the drivers side window. It took a few seconds for me to realize he was looking for a tip for having taken care of my station wagon and the contents. I reached into my wallet and pulled out $5. When he saw the amount I sensed he wasn’t thrilled with my generosity. However, I wasn’t going to be intimidated by someone I’d never see again.
Traffic, as expected, was horrendous. Three hours to go 85 miles. If the trip did nothing else it pretty much guaranteed that all my subsequent city visits would be by public transportation. It was definitely the lesser of two evils. At home Elle was all excited to take a look at the ‘loot’ I’d brought back from the city. With plenty of time to think on my way home I was able to put a couple of things together about the deceased woman. First off, as I said, her parents were fairly well off but not rich. However, seeing just a small part of her apartment was an ‘eye opener’. But the clincher was when the man who’d driven me to the apartment made his comment about her having to have had a really good job to live there. My thoughts were about what was hidden in those cartons in the back of the wagon. If she really was rich then most of the stuff would be good quality. I was almost as excited to see it as Elle was. But, like my grandfather would say, “First things first” and that was supper.
The boxes were fairly well marked. We knew which ones held blouses and tops as well as the ones with pants and shorts. After we all ate I took them into the house and put them in the living room. We didn’t have a plan as I’d expressed to Elle that if she were rich all of the stuff would be of good quality. I have no concept of numbers as we went through each carton… but there was a lot of stuff. In chatting with each other we decided to suggest to the minister that he put out a little of it at a time rather than create a ‘feeding frenzy’ if it all went on the tables at once. From a marketing standpoint I felt that ‘word of mouth’ about there being more to come might be a good thing. I'd brought in everything but the box marked “misc” and, with it being time for the 11pm news we decided it could wait. The woman was one size larger than Elle so there was little that she could pull out to keep. That was OK by me. If we had a concern it was going to be in pricing the things. Most came from big name department stores… Saks 5th Avenue… Best and Co… Lord and Taylor (when it was still a premier store) and Bergdorf Goodman. I told Elle that probably 95% of the women who came into the Thrift Shoppe had never been in any one of those stores so the names wouldn’t mean all that much. Therefore, whoever was pricing the goods had to “dumb the prices down” so it would sell. It might mean that there would be some really good bargains. But… I wanted no part of it.
The phone ringing at 7am was a real surprise. Elle had only been called in to teach once since school had started. Up to the beginning of the school year the secretary for the principal was a good friend of ours. But, when the school year began she’d been replaced so Elle no longer had an “in” when it came to knowing what was going on at the school. After the principal and his wife (and kids) had moved from next door into their new house we had no contact with them. I’d written that Barbara, their daughter, who’d stayed with us for a period of time back in the Spring had become ‘distant’ and avoided us. I had a theory as to why but neither of us followed up on it. However, it was now looking like we should’ve because Elle was being left out of the ‘loop’ when it came to getting calls to come in to teach. But, on this particular morning it was a positive call. Elle was all excited and we both forgot all about the clothing donation piled up in the living room. As Elle went out the door I told her to follow up with some of the teachers that she’d been called in for in the past to see if they had any idea what was going on.
I was anxious to get home to find out if Elle had any information on her situation. She didn’t have anything ‘concrete’ but had been told to get in touch with her friend, the principal’s ex secretary. She’d gotten a new job at the local bank in town. Elle told me she’d called her and been invited to come over after supper. To me, it was a start. Elle left me in charge of the kids (and the supper dishes) and headed off. She was back in just a minute wanting me to get the last carton I’d picked up in the city out of the station wagon. I’d forgotten about it, more concerned with repacking all the clothes we’d gone through the previous evening. Pulling it out from the back of the wagon I remember it being heavy and almost dropping it. I had no idea what was in it and decided to at least take a look while Elle was gone.
The older girls, thankfully, had some kind of homework which took them out of the way. Kaye, ever curious, wanted to see if anything in the box was for her. I got the tape off and lifted one corner of the top and all I saw was shoes. I remember thinking “Oh, no!”. When she saw them she went off to get a coloring book. Looking at the shoes stacked on top they all looked to be in good shape. The ladies at the church had decided against offering shoes for reasons I don’t remember but looking at the condition of these I was about to ask that they change their minds. I pulled at least a dozen out and they were of all types… and some looked new. As I pulled more out I saw some small boxes under them. I wasn’t expecting that so pushed some shoes aside to pull one out. To my great excitement it was a lingerie box. Popping it open I saw two full nylon slips. That made me reach down for another box only this one had no markings on it. When I opened it… well it was like my own special Christmas present… panties… and they weren’t new.
To be continued…
 |
| Just one of them... |
Saturday, April 21, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166p)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166p)
I’d heard stories of Mac’s wife but had never seen her in person as she, supposedly, seldom came to the track. Mac was known as the ‘enforcer’, making sure rules were followed. The main thing I remember about him was that he was fair in his decision making. At the track he didn’t hang around any one car but after the season was over he, supposedly, was at every social affair… and with his wife. That’s where the stories about her came from. This was the first one I’d attended where he was there and my first look at her was worth the price of admission. Without a doubt she was most ‘endowed’ woman I’d ever seen in person. I’ll never forget Elle’s first comment… “It’s a wonder she doesn’t tip over… “ But, there really was more to her than her chest. She was easily in her 40’s but had a very pretty face, and knew it. Of course I made a complete body scan. Her pants looked like they were shrink dried onto her… and you know that I made sure to position myself to get a good place to observe. Elle had a couple of pair of knit slacks that I loved because of what they showed but they couldn’t compare to the ones on this woman. Usually at house parties the men would congregate in the kitchen and the women would be in the living room. Not on this night! Cliffy’s house was fairly small but the living and dining rooms were basically all one so there were fourteen people in there. A game that Beth almost always insisted on playing was one of my least favorites… charades.
When we started it was the men against the women. The ladies got off to a quick start easily winning a couple of times. The men were not so fortunate and I remember being totally out of it when it came to my turn. However, my failure was nothing compared to what happened to Mac’s wife. It always helps if you know the basics of the game and one is you can’t speak. She kept trying to give hints only to have the men get on her about it. She thought it was funny. Finally, sort of exasperated because she couldn’t get her teammates to understand what she was doing, she dropped down to her knees and then fell forward with her arms, from her elbows to her hands, on the floor and her head, face down, resting on them. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes as I stared at her butt sticking up… right in the faces of all the guys. I remember trying to keep from laughing when I heard her say “I give up” but my eyes never left her butt. The VPL was vivid because of all the pressure across her rear. However, if there was disappointment it was because the lines for the panty crotch line weren’t all that big. She stayed in that position for a short while and then she flopped over on her side to get up. As she did I got a very quick peek at the waist elastic of her panties. That was a clue as to why the crotch line was small… her panties were really a panty girdle, something that was becoming popular for women with a little extra girth and no one of my favorites. Even so, it was the best part of the evening.
With the sailboat racing season over I didn’t have a ready excuse to go to the 8am church service. Elle hated taking all three kids without me and I hated loosing half a day… but that was the way it was. On this particular Sunday, the mother of the deceased woman was there for the express purpose of giving me the information I’d need to get her daughter’s clothes from her apartment in the city. I was concerned that it would be somewhat difficult meeting her under the circumstances and I was right. In the end I got what I needed… the address and the name of the doorman who would let me in. I was assured he’d give me a hand in loading the things up. She explained that she’d boxed all of the things with the exception of coats and dresses. The minister, who was present along with Elle, thanked her for her generosity and assured her it would be appreciated by the parish. After the woman left I told the minister my next meeting in the city was on Tuesday and, depending just how much stuff there was, some of it would be available for sale the following Saturday. That pleased him as most of the ‘good stuff’ in the shop had been picked out and the money from the previous day had dropped off… a lot.
The title of this part… "KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy", came from all the commitments I had at that time in my life. Starting with my job, a corporate officer at the bank responsible for personnel, security, managing the main office banking floor and advertising. As a representative of the bank I was on the Committee for Personnel Management for a statewide banking organization; the local Chamber of Commerce and also the Officer’s Forum for Group 6. On a personal basis I was a vestryman at the church and part of “the group”, an informal organization bent on changing the make up of the School Board; a co-owner of a race car and sailboat racer. It was daunting!
By the time I headed for work on Monday I’d made up my mind to get permission to go in to the city that night using the excuse it was the only way to be sure to be on time for the meeting although I wasn’t looking forward to the drive. The meeting was the one on Personnel Management and I was looking forward to that. Of course my real reason was to pick up the clothes that night and before the meeting so I could be home at a reasonable time on Tuesday. Hobie didn’t have a problem with it and suggested that I leave the bank around 3pm so I’d be settled in at the hotel and could get a good meal. Naturally, I agreed with his suggestion. Driving to the city at that time of day was an easy trip as most of the traffic was headed out of the city. The only negative was that I’d be going in that direction in 24 hours.
The destination was an apartment building in an upscale part of the city. Parking wasn’t allowed in front of the building but a car could make a five minute stop. It was enough time to find and speak to the doorman and he was expecting me. He gave me a pass to park at the delivery dock. I made my way to the lobby and was escorted to the apartment. Even though I didn’t get to see much of the apartment I could see it was very nice. The boxes were waiting for me just inside the door. I remember taking four cartons to the elevator and then, with the doorman’s help, carrying coats and dresses down to my station wagon. When we loaded the cartons in the back he asked where I was staying that night. When I told him at The Commodore he suggested that I leave my vehicle right there at the garage telling and he would make arrangements for it. He assured me that it was far safer. I knew he was probably right but I also wondered how long it would take for me to get back to the building after the meeting and then how late it would be in getting home. He made it easy to make the decision when he called for a taxi to get me to the hotel. I decided to worry about the next day when it came.
To be continued…
I’d heard stories of Mac’s wife but had never seen her in person as she, supposedly, seldom came to the track. Mac was known as the ‘enforcer’, making sure rules were followed. The main thing I remember about him was that he was fair in his decision making. At the track he didn’t hang around any one car but after the season was over he, supposedly, was at every social affair… and with his wife. That’s where the stories about her came from. This was the first one I’d attended where he was there and my first look at her was worth the price of admission. Without a doubt she was most ‘endowed’ woman I’d ever seen in person. I’ll never forget Elle’s first comment… “It’s a wonder she doesn’t tip over… “ But, there really was more to her than her chest. She was easily in her 40’s but had a very pretty face, and knew it. Of course I made a complete body scan. Her pants looked like they were shrink dried onto her… and you know that I made sure to position myself to get a good place to observe. Elle had a couple of pair of knit slacks that I loved because of what they showed but they couldn’t compare to the ones on this woman. Usually at house parties the men would congregate in the kitchen and the women would be in the living room. Not on this night! Cliffy’s house was fairly small but the living and dining rooms were basically all one so there were fourteen people in there. A game that Beth almost always insisted on playing was one of my least favorites… charades.
When we started it was the men against the women. The ladies got off to a quick start easily winning a couple of times. The men were not so fortunate and I remember being totally out of it when it came to my turn. However, my failure was nothing compared to what happened to Mac’s wife. It always helps if you know the basics of the game and one is you can’t speak. She kept trying to give hints only to have the men get on her about it. She thought it was funny. Finally, sort of exasperated because she couldn’t get her teammates to understand what she was doing, she dropped down to her knees and then fell forward with her arms, from her elbows to her hands, on the floor and her head, face down, resting on them. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes as I stared at her butt sticking up… right in the faces of all the guys. I remember trying to keep from laughing when I heard her say “I give up” but my eyes never left her butt. The VPL was vivid because of all the pressure across her rear. However, if there was disappointment it was because the lines for the panty crotch line weren’t all that big. She stayed in that position for a short while and then she flopped over on her side to get up. As she did I got a very quick peek at the waist elastic of her panties. That was a clue as to why the crotch line was small… her panties were really a panty girdle, something that was becoming popular for women with a little extra girth and no one of my favorites. Even so, it was the best part of the evening.
With the sailboat racing season over I didn’t have a ready excuse to go to the 8am church service. Elle hated taking all three kids without me and I hated loosing half a day… but that was the way it was. On this particular Sunday, the mother of the deceased woman was there for the express purpose of giving me the information I’d need to get her daughter’s clothes from her apartment in the city. I was concerned that it would be somewhat difficult meeting her under the circumstances and I was right. In the end I got what I needed… the address and the name of the doorman who would let me in. I was assured he’d give me a hand in loading the things up. She explained that she’d boxed all of the things with the exception of coats and dresses. The minister, who was present along with Elle, thanked her for her generosity and assured her it would be appreciated by the parish. After the woman left I told the minister my next meeting in the city was on Tuesday and, depending just how much stuff there was, some of it would be available for sale the following Saturday. That pleased him as most of the ‘good stuff’ in the shop had been picked out and the money from the previous day had dropped off… a lot.
The title of this part… "KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy", came from all the commitments I had at that time in my life. Starting with my job, a corporate officer at the bank responsible for personnel, security, managing the main office banking floor and advertising. As a representative of the bank I was on the Committee for Personnel Management for a statewide banking organization; the local Chamber of Commerce and also the Officer’s Forum for Group 6. On a personal basis I was a vestryman at the church and part of “the group”, an informal organization bent on changing the make up of the School Board; a co-owner of a race car and sailboat racer. It was daunting!
By the time I headed for work on Monday I’d made up my mind to get permission to go in to the city that night using the excuse it was the only way to be sure to be on time for the meeting although I wasn’t looking forward to the drive. The meeting was the one on Personnel Management and I was looking forward to that. Of course my real reason was to pick up the clothes that night and before the meeting so I could be home at a reasonable time on Tuesday. Hobie didn’t have a problem with it and suggested that I leave the bank around 3pm so I’d be settled in at the hotel and could get a good meal. Naturally, I agreed with his suggestion. Driving to the city at that time of day was an easy trip as most of the traffic was headed out of the city. The only negative was that I’d be going in that direction in 24 hours.
The destination was an apartment building in an upscale part of the city. Parking wasn’t allowed in front of the building but a car could make a five minute stop. It was enough time to find and speak to the doorman and he was expecting me. He gave me a pass to park at the delivery dock. I made my way to the lobby and was escorted to the apartment. Even though I didn’t get to see much of the apartment I could see it was very nice. The boxes were waiting for me just inside the door. I remember taking four cartons to the elevator and then, with the doorman’s help, carrying coats and dresses down to my station wagon. When we loaded the cartons in the back he asked where I was staying that night. When I told him at The Commodore he suggested that I leave my vehicle right there at the garage telling and he would make arrangements for it. He assured me that it was far safer. I knew he was probably right but I also wondered how long it would take for me to get back to the building after the meeting and then how late it would be in getting home. He made it easy to make the decision when he called for a taxi to get me to the hotel. I decided to worry about the next day when it came.
To be continued…
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166o)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166o)
I hadn’t forgotten about the minister’s call and had tried to reach him during the morning but was unsuccessful. Figuring I could stop by the manse on my way home I put the call out of my mind for the rest of the day. Even though the day hadn’t been all that stressful I was feeling the effects (letdown) of the weekend and chose to leave at 5pm. Pulling in to the minister's driveway I could see my house from there. I was hoping that the matter with him was something that could be handled quickly. The minister greeted me at the front door and took me into his office without saying a word. It was very strange.
Back when Elle and I were in Bermuda to celebrate our anniversary the daughter of one of the church parishioners died in a car accident. Neither Elle nor I really knew the deceased but both of us did know the mother. It was back when there was a lot of ‘discussion’ on which direction the soon to be opened Thrift Shoppe should take. When the decision was made to limit the clothes to being fairly current as far as style was concerned, the woman offered to donate all her daughters clothes to the shop. The daughter lived in an apartment in the city and her plan was to dispose of her belongings after a period of mourning. The woman showed up at church on Sunday and told the minister she was ready… and that was where the minister wanted me to get involved. In the course of casual chatting I’d mentioned to him that I’d been appointed to a banking committee that would require me to go in to the city once a month. I didn’t think of it as any more than an update on my life in general. However, when the lady told him she’d set the clothes aside but that he’d have to arrange for someone to go pick them up… he thought of me. My next meeting in the city was the following week and he wanted to know if there was any way I could see my way to picking up the items in question. I’m not sure but I think I asked how much stuff was there. I do remember him saying that most items had been boxed but there were some coats and dresses that were loose. That told me that to do it would entail driving to the city, something I hated doing.
If there was one thing I wasn’t very good at it was in saying “No” when asked to do something for someone. I, reluctantly, (VERY!) said I thought I could arrange it if he’d get the address and any other details I’d need. I’d been in a pretty good mood for being tired but this changed it. I’d not had any time to tell Elle about my weekend nor her to tell me about hers before leaving for work. It was obvious that she had something important on her mind because as soon as I walked in she pointed me towards the den. The look on her face told me I wasn’t going to get a ‘surprise’ that I might like. It turned out that one of the teachers who she’d done some substituting for in the past had contacted her. The woman asked if Elle was still on the substitute list as she’d specifically asked that Elle be called to take her class on two occasions and yet another teacher had taken her class. Elle had mentioned to me that it seemed strange that she wasn’t getting calls. Here it was, mid October, and she’d only been called once. We both knew that if she was called and then declined her name would go to the bottom of the list but she hadn't done that. Elle had been at the top of the list all through the Spring term and yet wasn’t being called for this term. When she heard that the teacher had requested her and not been called it really disturbed her. She wanted to know what I thought should be done to find out what was going on. Another situation that I really didn’t have an answer for!
A partial answer to the Halloween costume dilemma came from an unexpected source. The full Board meeting for October was the next day and I had to make a presentation to request additional money for advertising to finish out the year. When the new branch opened the Board had authorized funds for advertising that were separate from the regular advertising budget. The grand opening and the gift campaign were to stand on their own. When it became obvious that the public's response was underwhelming they told me to “double down” on the advertising, especially the direct mail portion… but they didn’t authorize additional funds. Now we still had 2 1/2 months to go and there was almost no money left in the regular ad budget. In what should’ve been a ‘no-brainer’ to replenish the funds used for the branch opening they decided I had to present an advertising program to finish out the year. The ad agency was run by two men, one of whom lived just down the road from where I lived. His brother was an actor who was on TV in one of the soap operas that was popular at the time. A wannabe actor, he started and managed a community theater in our town. Elle and I tried to support it. When he showed up for his ad presentation I, just to start the meeting off in a low key fashion, asked what was on the upcoming schedule for the theater. We chatted about that for a few minutes and in the conversation he mentioned that the group was looking for corporate donations for costumes. There was the opening. Long story short… I told him I thought the bank could make a monetary donation and almost immediately asked if within their collection there might be some costumes the bank employees could borrow for the Halloween contest. His answer was a positive one which solved one of my problems. Then we got down to bank business.
At the Board meeting I had a hard time keeping from saying what was really on my mind about the reason for having to ask for additional funds. There were three or four members who, for some reason, didn’t like the new program the agency presented and gave me some grief about it. To be truthful there was nothing ‘special’ about what the agency had come up with and because of that they didn’t think it was worth the money. It was Bert, the president, who shut them up when he offered them the alternative… no advertising at all. The discussion ended at that point and I had the needed money and costumes as well.
As far as the race car was concerned we pretty much had decided to meet Saturday afternoon to put the car away for the Winter. And, since we hadn’t had to pay rent for the space in Cliffy’s father’s garage, we offered to do a ‘general housecleaning’ of the place as a sort of payment. Beth, Cliffy’s wife showed up and suggested we have a season ending party at their house that night. I would’ve been just as happy to be home with Elle and the kids. As I’ve previously mentioned, other than Elle there were no other females in the group with any real ‘looks’. Beth was heavy, but not fat. Ra was skinny, but not anorexic. Alan and Buster’s wives were really ‘plain Janes’ with no personality at all. In fact, none of the women liked Buster’s wife. It looked like it would be a long boring evening coming up as Elle and I headed for Cliffy’s house. We were the last to arrive and as I parked our car it seemed like there were some extra cars. Inside, I recognized a couple of the race track officials from our regular Saturday night racing. It took a minute or two for me to see one of their wives and all I’ll say is it was enough for me to change my mind about how the night would turn out.
To be continued…
I hadn’t forgotten about the minister’s call and had tried to reach him during the morning but was unsuccessful. Figuring I could stop by the manse on my way home I put the call out of my mind for the rest of the day. Even though the day hadn’t been all that stressful I was feeling the effects (letdown) of the weekend and chose to leave at 5pm. Pulling in to the minister's driveway I could see my house from there. I was hoping that the matter with him was something that could be handled quickly. The minister greeted me at the front door and took me into his office without saying a word. It was very strange.
Back when Elle and I were in Bermuda to celebrate our anniversary the daughter of one of the church parishioners died in a car accident. Neither Elle nor I really knew the deceased but both of us did know the mother. It was back when there was a lot of ‘discussion’ on which direction the soon to be opened Thrift Shoppe should take. When the decision was made to limit the clothes to being fairly current as far as style was concerned, the woman offered to donate all her daughters clothes to the shop. The daughter lived in an apartment in the city and her plan was to dispose of her belongings after a period of mourning. The woman showed up at church on Sunday and told the minister she was ready… and that was where the minister wanted me to get involved. In the course of casual chatting I’d mentioned to him that I’d been appointed to a banking committee that would require me to go in to the city once a month. I didn’t think of it as any more than an update on my life in general. However, when the lady told him she’d set the clothes aside but that he’d have to arrange for someone to go pick them up… he thought of me. My next meeting in the city was the following week and he wanted to know if there was any way I could see my way to picking up the items in question. I’m not sure but I think I asked how much stuff was there. I do remember him saying that most items had been boxed but there were some coats and dresses that were loose. That told me that to do it would entail driving to the city, something I hated doing.
If there was one thing I wasn’t very good at it was in saying “No” when asked to do something for someone. I, reluctantly, (VERY!) said I thought I could arrange it if he’d get the address and any other details I’d need. I’d been in a pretty good mood for being tired but this changed it. I’d not had any time to tell Elle about my weekend nor her to tell me about hers before leaving for work. It was obvious that she had something important on her mind because as soon as I walked in she pointed me towards the den. The look on her face told me I wasn’t going to get a ‘surprise’ that I might like. It turned out that one of the teachers who she’d done some substituting for in the past had contacted her. The woman asked if Elle was still on the substitute list as she’d specifically asked that Elle be called to take her class on two occasions and yet another teacher had taken her class. Elle had mentioned to me that it seemed strange that she wasn’t getting calls. Here it was, mid October, and she’d only been called once. We both knew that if she was called and then declined her name would go to the bottom of the list but she hadn't done that. Elle had been at the top of the list all through the Spring term and yet wasn’t being called for this term. When she heard that the teacher had requested her and not been called it really disturbed her. She wanted to know what I thought should be done to find out what was going on. Another situation that I really didn’t have an answer for!
A partial answer to the Halloween costume dilemma came from an unexpected source. The full Board meeting for October was the next day and I had to make a presentation to request additional money for advertising to finish out the year. When the new branch opened the Board had authorized funds for advertising that were separate from the regular advertising budget. The grand opening and the gift campaign were to stand on their own. When it became obvious that the public's response was underwhelming they told me to “double down” on the advertising, especially the direct mail portion… but they didn’t authorize additional funds. Now we still had 2 1/2 months to go and there was almost no money left in the regular ad budget. In what should’ve been a ‘no-brainer’ to replenish the funds used for the branch opening they decided I had to present an advertising program to finish out the year. The ad agency was run by two men, one of whom lived just down the road from where I lived. His brother was an actor who was on TV in one of the soap operas that was popular at the time. A wannabe actor, he started and managed a community theater in our town. Elle and I tried to support it. When he showed up for his ad presentation I, just to start the meeting off in a low key fashion, asked what was on the upcoming schedule for the theater. We chatted about that for a few minutes and in the conversation he mentioned that the group was looking for corporate donations for costumes. There was the opening. Long story short… I told him I thought the bank could make a monetary donation and almost immediately asked if within their collection there might be some costumes the bank employees could borrow for the Halloween contest. His answer was a positive one which solved one of my problems. Then we got down to bank business.
At the Board meeting I had a hard time keeping from saying what was really on my mind about the reason for having to ask for additional funds. There were three or four members who, for some reason, didn’t like the new program the agency presented and gave me some grief about it. To be truthful there was nothing ‘special’ about what the agency had come up with and because of that they didn’t think it was worth the money. It was Bert, the president, who shut them up when he offered them the alternative… no advertising at all. The discussion ended at that point and I had the needed money and costumes as well.
As far as the race car was concerned we pretty much had decided to meet Saturday afternoon to put the car away for the Winter. And, since we hadn’t had to pay rent for the space in Cliffy’s father’s garage, we offered to do a ‘general housecleaning’ of the place as a sort of payment. Beth, Cliffy’s wife showed up and suggested we have a season ending party at their house that night. I would’ve been just as happy to be home with Elle and the kids. As I’ve previously mentioned, other than Elle there were no other females in the group with any real ‘looks’. Beth was heavy, but not fat. Ra was skinny, but not anorexic. Alan and Buster’s wives were really ‘plain Janes’ with no personality at all. In fact, none of the women liked Buster’s wife. It looked like it would be a long boring evening coming up as Elle and I headed for Cliffy’s house. We were the last to arrive and as I parked our car it seemed like there were some extra cars. Inside, I recognized a couple of the race track officials from our regular Saturday night racing. It took a minute or two for me to see one of their wives and all I’ll say is it was enough for me to change my mind about how the night would turn out.
To be continued…
Monday, April 16, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166n)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166n)
As I turned to walk back to my desk Woody asked if I’d found a bag at my desk. I stopped, hesitated for a second and all of a sudden the memory of Thursday afternoon popped back into my head. My concentration that afternoon had been in getting out of there and ready to leave for the race. Peggy’s father had come to the bank and had asked me to give the bag he had in his hand to Peggy. When I did I pretty much figured out that the contents were for Woody. Peggy hadn’t come right out and said it but had implied that Woody’s period had surprised her and Peggy had called home for ‘replacements’ for her. I’m sure my hesitation in responding indicated to Woody that I hadn’t found the bag but I recovered and told her that I’d seen it. She then asked if I could do her a big favor and to see that it got to Peggy’s father. That part was easy as I casually said I would. Walking back to my desk I wondered to myself if I hadn’t missed an opportunity to talk about the contents. I quickly dismissed the thought. Even though the drive-in area was relatively remote from the main work area I realized that it wasn’t the place or the time… but the seed was planted.
It turned out to be an interesting morning on a number of fronts. One was in having Hobie stop by my desk to inquire how the car had made out in the race. In three years at the bank and working as his assistant I couldn’t remember him ever bringing my race car endeavors up. It surprised me. I think I told him it had been a “learning experience”, especially with the spring breaking (we made a point off putting two springs on the pedal before we even tried to move the car) and it left us with high hopes for the following season. It wasn’t too much after that when Joanie told me that Lynda had called and for me to call back. It was getting close to lunch so I decided to just take a stroll over to the brokerage office and talk to her in person. That almost turned out to be a mistake.
When I walked into the office the place was busier than I’d ever seen it. Lynda was on the phone and scribbling numbers on some paperwork. Stan, my broker and her boss, was in a cubicle that was normally empty and talking with a man and woman. Bill, the office manager, was standing behind Ruthe, his assistant, and looking at what at that time served as an electronic ticker machine. I knew something was up so I just stood back where Lynda’s area was to observe. It had paid off for me in the past with some upskirts (intentional and unintentional) and I was hoping for an encore or two. Once Lynda put the phone down she got up and came over to where I was standing. I’ll never forget it as she stated “You’re almost too late!”. I had no idea what she was talking about but before she started to explain the phone rang and she went back to answer it. Wearing a pencil skirt and with her standing at her desk I got a very nice VPL, at least a hip and a partial cheek’s worth. I had to wait a few minutes before she returned to me to explain her comment.
I’ve previously written about my getting involved in the stock market through the trust my grandfather had created for me. I didn’t really know that much about it but when I was forced to take some actions concerning the investments that made up the trust I ended up at this brokerage office and met Stan, a licensed broker and his secretary/assistant, Lynda. Stan was very patient with me and exposed me to some opportunities that had proven beneficial. I was still a neophyte at this point so what the call to me had been about was something totally new to me… an IPO or an Initial Public Offering. The brokerage company that Stan worked for was one of the underwriters of a new stock. That gave them the right to offer that stock to potential purchasers at a given price before it went out into the open market… and Stan had a number of shares to place and was offering some to me. Talk about being unprepared!
When Lynda had initially called Stan had set aside 100 shares for me but by the time I got there there were only 50 shares that hadn’t been spoken for. The “guesstimate” for the offering price had been between $28 to $30 a share. So, as Lynda was schooling me on all of this I was trying to do the math in my head. Roughly $1,500 was my estimate and between the various savings accounts (previously mentioned) I knew I could come up with it. The clincher was that it was expected that the price would go up to $40 by January 1. Lynda was getting a bit impatient for an answer and I’m sure that’s what made me ‘pull the trigger’ and say “OK”. The stock’s name was Consolidated Oil and Gas and that’s all I knew about it… the name. Being conservative by nature, most of my afternoon was consumed by ‘buyer’s remorse’.
Before leaving for the championship race Hobie had informed me of my appointment to be the bank’s representative to the Chamber of Commerce. It was not something I was happy about. The bank was grouped in with retail businesses which meant that we were required to be part of any retail promotion sponsored by the Chamber. My complaint was that we didn’t sell anything so these ‘promotions’ didn’t do anything to benefit the bank. BUT…the bank had a number of Trustees who were merchants and they made sure we were a member in good standing. The first thing I was responsible for in my new duty for was to be a judge in the Halloween costume contest. In the past Hobie had charged me with getting at least three employees who dealt with the public to come to work, in costume, so the bank would be eligible for prizes. I'd concentrated on the tellers and managed to cajole a few into participating. A couple of them actually won prizes. I decided to delegate that job to Bret who, just like me, was less than thrilled. However, I had the authority to authorize time off and, to give Bret a little assistance, told him he could give half a day off for those who were willing to do it. He called the tellers together that afternoon made his plea. I stayed away, just waiting for the results. They weren’t all that good as only two stepped up but one was Woody. I was surprised because of her shyness but Bret said she was eager to participate. Lillian, as expected, was the other.
I’d hoped to not get involved. Bret was in the process of telling me why the different tellers didn’t want to be a part of the program, even with the ‘carrot’ of time off, when Joanie came up to us. Problem solved. We’d concentrated on the tellers but Joanie, as the receptionist, was eligible. In a way I hated to ask but knew that because of the help I’d given her with money for clothes right after she started at the bank, she’d do it. I remember her standing there with this sort of helpless look on her face. To ease the situation a bit I, without even an idea of how to do it, offered to provide her with a costume. It was just another situation that I’d put myself into that I probably shouldn’t have. Bret picked up on it and asked if I’d do the same for the other volunteers. I wanted to stuff a sock in his mouth but agreed that I’d work on it.
To be continued…
As I turned to walk back to my desk Woody asked if I’d found a bag at my desk. I stopped, hesitated for a second and all of a sudden the memory of Thursday afternoon popped back into my head. My concentration that afternoon had been in getting out of there and ready to leave for the race. Peggy’s father had come to the bank and had asked me to give the bag he had in his hand to Peggy. When I did I pretty much figured out that the contents were for Woody. Peggy hadn’t come right out and said it but had implied that Woody’s period had surprised her and Peggy had called home for ‘replacements’ for her. I’m sure my hesitation in responding indicated to Woody that I hadn’t found the bag but I recovered and told her that I’d seen it. She then asked if I could do her a big favor and to see that it got to Peggy’s father. That part was easy as I casually said I would. Walking back to my desk I wondered to myself if I hadn’t missed an opportunity to talk about the contents. I quickly dismissed the thought. Even though the drive-in area was relatively remote from the main work area I realized that it wasn’t the place or the time… but the seed was planted.
It turned out to be an interesting morning on a number of fronts. One was in having Hobie stop by my desk to inquire how the car had made out in the race. In three years at the bank and working as his assistant I couldn’t remember him ever bringing my race car endeavors up. It surprised me. I think I told him it had been a “learning experience”, especially with the spring breaking (we made a point off putting two springs on the pedal before we even tried to move the car) and it left us with high hopes for the following season. It wasn’t too much after that when Joanie told me that Lynda had called and for me to call back. It was getting close to lunch so I decided to just take a stroll over to the brokerage office and talk to her in person. That almost turned out to be a mistake.
When I walked into the office the place was busier than I’d ever seen it. Lynda was on the phone and scribbling numbers on some paperwork. Stan, my broker and her boss, was in a cubicle that was normally empty and talking with a man and woman. Bill, the office manager, was standing behind Ruthe, his assistant, and looking at what at that time served as an electronic ticker machine. I knew something was up so I just stood back where Lynda’s area was to observe. It had paid off for me in the past with some upskirts (intentional and unintentional) and I was hoping for an encore or two. Once Lynda put the phone down she got up and came over to where I was standing. I’ll never forget it as she stated “You’re almost too late!”. I had no idea what she was talking about but before she started to explain the phone rang and she went back to answer it. Wearing a pencil skirt and with her standing at her desk I got a very nice VPL, at least a hip and a partial cheek’s worth. I had to wait a few minutes before she returned to me to explain her comment.
I’ve previously written about my getting involved in the stock market through the trust my grandfather had created for me. I didn’t really know that much about it but when I was forced to take some actions concerning the investments that made up the trust I ended up at this brokerage office and met Stan, a licensed broker and his secretary/assistant, Lynda. Stan was very patient with me and exposed me to some opportunities that had proven beneficial. I was still a neophyte at this point so what the call to me had been about was something totally new to me… an IPO or an Initial Public Offering. The brokerage company that Stan worked for was one of the underwriters of a new stock. That gave them the right to offer that stock to potential purchasers at a given price before it went out into the open market… and Stan had a number of shares to place and was offering some to me. Talk about being unprepared!
When Lynda had initially called Stan had set aside 100 shares for me but by the time I got there there were only 50 shares that hadn’t been spoken for. The “guesstimate” for the offering price had been between $28 to $30 a share. So, as Lynda was schooling me on all of this I was trying to do the math in my head. Roughly $1,500 was my estimate and between the various savings accounts (previously mentioned) I knew I could come up with it. The clincher was that it was expected that the price would go up to $40 by January 1. Lynda was getting a bit impatient for an answer and I’m sure that’s what made me ‘pull the trigger’ and say “OK”. The stock’s name was Consolidated Oil and Gas and that’s all I knew about it… the name. Being conservative by nature, most of my afternoon was consumed by ‘buyer’s remorse’.
Before leaving for the championship race Hobie had informed me of my appointment to be the bank’s representative to the Chamber of Commerce. It was not something I was happy about. The bank was grouped in with retail businesses which meant that we were required to be part of any retail promotion sponsored by the Chamber. My complaint was that we didn’t sell anything so these ‘promotions’ didn’t do anything to benefit the bank. BUT…the bank had a number of Trustees who were merchants and they made sure we were a member in good standing. The first thing I was responsible for in my new duty for was to be a judge in the Halloween costume contest. In the past Hobie had charged me with getting at least three employees who dealt with the public to come to work, in costume, so the bank would be eligible for prizes. I'd concentrated on the tellers and managed to cajole a few into participating. A couple of them actually won prizes. I decided to delegate that job to Bret who, just like me, was less than thrilled. However, I had the authority to authorize time off and, to give Bret a little assistance, told him he could give half a day off for those who were willing to do it. He called the tellers together that afternoon made his plea. I stayed away, just waiting for the results. They weren’t all that good as only two stepped up but one was Woody. I was surprised because of her shyness but Bret said she was eager to participate. Lillian, as expected, was the other.
I’d hoped to not get involved. Bret was in the process of telling me why the different tellers didn’t want to be a part of the program, even with the ‘carrot’ of time off, when Joanie came up to us. Problem solved. We’d concentrated on the tellers but Joanie, as the receptionist, was eligible. In a way I hated to ask but knew that because of the help I’d given her with money for clothes right after she started at the bank, she’d do it. I remember her standing there with this sort of helpless look on her face. To ease the situation a bit I, without even an idea of how to do it, offered to provide her with a costume. It was just another situation that I’d put myself into that I probably shouldn’t have. Bret picked up on it and asked if I’d do the same for the other volunteers. I wanted to stuff a sock in his mouth but agreed that I’d work on it.
To be continued…
Saturday, April 14, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166m)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166m)
Once back in the cab of the hauler and on our way I brought Davo up again. I could see Dick was in no mood to discus it but, ignoring that, I told him I wanted to know just what had happened at the motel to prompt the police to get involved. Seeing that I wasn’t going to ‘back off’ he relaxed a bit and said what he knew was “second hand’. From what his wife had told him the owner/clerk was afraid that Davo had left without paying for the second night and gone to the room to check with another person. With Davo’s car gone it was a rational assumption. But, when they opened the door and saw both Leigh and Davo asleep… and their clothes and bags still there, they grabbed what they could of them and headed for the office. Either Davo or Leigh heard some noise and saw someone run out the door. Davo went after them and caught up with the owner as he got to the office. Supposedly, he was about to hit the guy when the other guy tackled him. Evidently, someone staying at the motel ended up calling the police.
Nothing was mentioned about what Davo was or wasn’t wearing nor was Leigh’s name brought up. I knew that Leigh was naked from the waist down and, if the motel guys had taken the clothes I wondered what she was wearing… but didn’t ask Dick. The short version was the police listened to both sides of the story and told Davo he had two choices… pay up or be arrested. Davo’s argument that he’d been cheated out of $10 was ignored by the police. At that point Dick said he was certainly glad he’d taken Davo’s keys so we all could get to the track or quite possibly we could’ve all been arrested. Hearing that I was still curious as to what Leigh was wearing when she saw Ra driving by. If the motel guys had grabbed all the clothes on the floor as well as the suitcases there wasn’t anything for her to wear. But, and this was important, with them taking the loose clothes that took me off the hook for scarfing the panties I’d stuffed into my duffel bag. It was some relief but I found myself wondering if they’d missed and left the peed in pants that I’d found under the bed and love seat and that was what she ended up wearing… at least at that time. That also triggered the question as to what had happened to the peed in panties she'd been wearing that I couldn’t find.
We’d been told we finished 34th and had collected $250 as our share of the prize money. The ‘big bucks’ went to the the first five finishers and then it dropped off from there. We knew a top 10 finish would pay $1,000 but from there on back it wasn’t all that good. There had been a protest concerning the scoring that affected the cars finishing above and below 10th. Beth had figured that C J had ended up 14th and when he went to get paid they were holding it up until the dispute was resolved. All the other cars were paid including us and we discussed what we could buy for the car for that amount of money. We were in agreement that we were in pretty good shape as far as the car was concerned. The motor had just been “freshened” and only had some 65 miles or so on it. The guardrail scrape in the race was inconsequential so the only expense to start the next season was for tires. We were a happy group.
It was around 1am when I walked in the kitchen door. Elle had left a note for me on the counter that the minister had wanted to speak to me as soon as possible. I’d only called home once because the motel didn’t provide phones and there were no phone facilities at the track. I certainly wasn’t going to call him at that hour and wondered why she’d bothered to leave a note about it. I decided to wait to take a shower until morning and was on my way up the stairs when I suddenly remembered the pair of Leigh’s panties I’d stuffed into a pocket of my duffel bag. So, I turned around and went back to the kitchen. I pulled them out an gave them a pretty close look. Made by Greenco Maid they were definitely not ‘run of the mill’ panties. A light blue nylon with lace inserts over the front leg elastics, I was impressed that Leigh had something as nice as they were. I checked the crotch (by sight and smell) and didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. I made a quick trip to the basement to stash them until I had sufficient time for a more permanent location like the attic. Climbing the stairs I was pretty excited about my newest ‘treasure’.
However, I was still pretty ‘wound up’ from the weekend so lay awake in bed for a while trying to figure out what was so important that the minister wanted to talk. As far as I knew the Thrift Shoppe was running fairly smoothly and we’d paid off the outstanding heating oil bill. I hadn’t come up with any ideas by the time I finally drifted off to sleep. In the morning I asked Elle if she had any idea why the minister wanted to talk with me and all I got was a shrug. Then it came to me… a Vestry meeting was coming up. With the ‘factions’ within the parish due to the Thrift Shoppe the meetings had become somewhat of a battleground. Satisfied that that was the reason I let the import of it slip and concentrated on what the week at work would be like. A full Board meeting was scheduled for Wednesday but when I left on Thursday there was nothing out of the ordinary being considered.
When I got to my desk and pulled out my chair I saw a brown paper bag but with no writing on it. I picked it up and it was fairly light. I opened it up and saw two items of clothing… a pair of panties and what initially looked like they might’ve been a pair of slacks. Naturally, my focus was on the panties, and because I had no idea where they came from and I was out in public view, I could feel my cheeks flushing red. I clasped the bag shut and, literally, threw them under the knee space of the desk. I was at a complete loss as to the meaning of it. I tried to do a review of all the employees that I’d had any contact where panties had been a part of the conversation. Right in sight were two, Laura and Joanie. It had been a while since the last time so I disregarded them. I’d let Trish show the lingerie catalogs around from my friend Willy’s companies but that didn’t produce much if any interest at all. I knew Trish well enough by them to eliminate that possibility. After a few minutes of agony I began to focus on the slacks. Why were they in the bag with panties?
Bret had been late arriving that morning and as soon as he saw me wanted a ‘blow by blow’ description of what had happened with C J in the championship race. It sort of pissed me off that he completely ignored the fact that I was a part owner of a car that was there and he hadn’t asked how we’d done. I told him as far as qualifying was concerned that C J and his father were both disappointed with their high powered NASCAR motor. Then, sort of casually, said as far as I knew they’d finished 14th in the race. After I told him about C J’s finish he asked how we’d done. My ‘take’ on his reaction was that he was really surprised that we’d even qualified and when I told him we were running 15th when the spring broke I think he was a bit impressed… but he didn’t say anything to back it up. Then we both had situations to handle and that ended the conversation. Mine ended up being a problem at the drive-up window. Woody had accidentally hit a safety lock that was used to prevent anyone from using the drawer when the bank was closed. It was a quick fix and it was while I was there that the mystery of the panties/slacks was solved.
To be continued…
Once back in the cab of the hauler and on our way I brought Davo up again. I could see Dick was in no mood to discus it but, ignoring that, I told him I wanted to know just what had happened at the motel to prompt the police to get involved. Seeing that I wasn’t going to ‘back off’ he relaxed a bit and said what he knew was “second hand’. From what his wife had told him the owner/clerk was afraid that Davo had left without paying for the second night and gone to the room to check with another person. With Davo’s car gone it was a rational assumption. But, when they opened the door and saw both Leigh and Davo asleep… and their clothes and bags still there, they grabbed what they could of them and headed for the office. Either Davo or Leigh heard some noise and saw someone run out the door. Davo went after them and caught up with the owner as he got to the office. Supposedly, he was about to hit the guy when the other guy tackled him. Evidently, someone staying at the motel ended up calling the police.
Nothing was mentioned about what Davo was or wasn’t wearing nor was Leigh’s name brought up. I knew that Leigh was naked from the waist down and, if the motel guys had taken the clothes I wondered what she was wearing… but didn’t ask Dick. The short version was the police listened to both sides of the story and told Davo he had two choices… pay up or be arrested. Davo’s argument that he’d been cheated out of $10 was ignored by the police. At that point Dick said he was certainly glad he’d taken Davo’s keys so we all could get to the track or quite possibly we could’ve all been arrested. Hearing that I was still curious as to what Leigh was wearing when she saw Ra driving by. If the motel guys had grabbed all the clothes on the floor as well as the suitcases there wasn’t anything for her to wear. But, and this was important, with them taking the loose clothes that took me off the hook for scarfing the panties I’d stuffed into my duffel bag. It was some relief but I found myself wondering if they’d missed and left the peed in pants that I’d found under the bed and love seat and that was what she ended up wearing… at least at that time. That also triggered the question as to what had happened to the peed in panties she'd been wearing that I couldn’t find.
We’d been told we finished 34th and had collected $250 as our share of the prize money. The ‘big bucks’ went to the the first five finishers and then it dropped off from there. We knew a top 10 finish would pay $1,000 but from there on back it wasn’t all that good. There had been a protest concerning the scoring that affected the cars finishing above and below 10th. Beth had figured that C J had ended up 14th and when he went to get paid they were holding it up until the dispute was resolved. All the other cars were paid including us and we discussed what we could buy for the car for that amount of money. We were in agreement that we were in pretty good shape as far as the car was concerned. The motor had just been “freshened” and only had some 65 miles or so on it. The guardrail scrape in the race was inconsequential so the only expense to start the next season was for tires. We were a happy group.
It was around 1am when I walked in the kitchen door. Elle had left a note for me on the counter that the minister had wanted to speak to me as soon as possible. I’d only called home once because the motel didn’t provide phones and there were no phone facilities at the track. I certainly wasn’t going to call him at that hour and wondered why she’d bothered to leave a note about it. I decided to wait to take a shower until morning and was on my way up the stairs when I suddenly remembered the pair of Leigh’s panties I’d stuffed into a pocket of my duffel bag. So, I turned around and went back to the kitchen. I pulled them out an gave them a pretty close look. Made by Greenco Maid they were definitely not ‘run of the mill’ panties. A light blue nylon with lace inserts over the front leg elastics, I was impressed that Leigh had something as nice as they were. I checked the crotch (by sight and smell) and didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. I made a quick trip to the basement to stash them until I had sufficient time for a more permanent location like the attic. Climbing the stairs I was pretty excited about my newest ‘treasure’.
However, I was still pretty ‘wound up’ from the weekend so lay awake in bed for a while trying to figure out what was so important that the minister wanted to talk. As far as I knew the Thrift Shoppe was running fairly smoothly and we’d paid off the outstanding heating oil bill. I hadn’t come up with any ideas by the time I finally drifted off to sleep. In the morning I asked Elle if she had any idea why the minister wanted to talk with me and all I got was a shrug. Then it came to me… a Vestry meeting was coming up. With the ‘factions’ within the parish due to the Thrift Shoppe the meetings had become somewhat of a battleground. Satisfied that that was the reason I let the import of it slip and concentrated on what the week at work would be like. A full Board meeting was scheduled for Wednesday but when I left on Thursday there was nothing out of the ordinary being considered.
When I got to my desk and pulled out my chair I saw a brown paper bag but with no writing on it. I picked it up and it was fairly light. I opened it up and saw two items of clothing… a pair of panties and what initially looked like they might’ve been a pair of slacks. Naturally, my focus was on the panties, and because I had no idea where they came from and I was out in public view, I could feel my cheeks flushing red. I clasped the bag shut and, literally, threw them under the knee space of the desk. I was at a complete loss as to the meaning of it. I tried to do a review of all the employees that I’d had any contact where panties had been a part of the conversation. Right in sight were two, Laura and Joanie. It had been a while since the last time so I disregarded them. I’d let Trish show the lingerie catalogs around from my friend Willy’s companies but that didn’t produce much if any interest at all. I knew Trish well enough by them to eliminate that possibility. After a few minutes of agony I began to focus on the slacks. Why were they in the bag with panties?
Bret had been late arriving that morning and as soon as he saw me wanted a ‘blow by blow’ description of what had happened with C J in the championship race. It sort of pissed me off that he completely ignored the fact that I was a part owner of a car that was there and he hadn’t asked how we’d done. I told him as far as qualifying was concerned that C J and his father were both disappointed with their high powered NASCAR motor. Then, sort of casually, said as far as I knew they’d finished 14th in the race. After I told him about C J’s finish he asked how we’d done. My ‘take’ on his reaction was that he was really surprised that we’d even qualified and when I told him we were running 15th when the spring broke I think he was a bit impressed… but he didn’t say anything to back it up. Then we both had situations to handle and that ended the conversation. Mine ended up being a problem at the drive-up window. Woody had accidentally hit a safety lock that was used to prevent anyone from using the drawer when the bank was closed. It was a quick fix and it was while I was there that the mystery of the panties/slacks was solved.
To be continued…
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166l)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy ,busy (Part 166l)
Once the race was over it was pure bedlam in the infield. I have no idea how many race fans were in there but they all wanted to leave at the same time… with only one way out. By then we were resigned to the fact that it would be a long wait until we could move the race car from the impound area and to get it to where the hauler was parked. I was volunteered to stay by the hauler while the others went back to the race car. It didn’t really matter to me but I can say that it turned out to be ‘interesting’. Because of being busy with prepping the car before the race I’d not taken the time to investigate the infield rest room situation as I’d intended based upon my observations on Saturday Then, when it was found we couldn’t move the car we decided to go back to the hauler to watch the end of the race. I proceeded to forget all about it. But now, with people streaming by the hauler on their way to leave, I got to do some observing. It was an amazing cross section of people… young, old and in between. About the only reason I could come up with for them to have chosen the infield to watch was the cost was way cheaper. I don’t know how much it was but, as I mentioned earlier, the sight lines were non existent unless you had a bit of elevation. We had some from the bed of the hauler but even that wasn’t all that great. A few of the passers by stopped by the hauler to ask which car we were but that was all. I’ve always been a ‘people watcher’ going all the way back to when I was racing horses. So, I continued to do it hoping to get a ‘prize’ or two until the crowd going past thinned out. Then, to kill time, I decided to pull out the ramps so Cliffy could just drive the car up onto the hauler when he was able to get the car there. It was when I was under the back to unlatch them that I got a reminder of what I’d witnessed the previous day… a women who’d obviously wet herself at some point during the afternoon and another who was in ‘distress’ were on the other side. I pretty much knew I was hidden so just stayed on my knees. I remember one woman urging the other to “Hurry up!” and then telling her that no one was coming. From my vantage point I could only see her from mid thigh on down. But then I saw the pants start to be lowered. My heart definitely had an accelerated beat to it as I saw the woman start to squat. The next thing was in hearing a female voice scream… “STOP!”. It was loud enough to make me look around and when I turned back to the where the women were I heard a different voice swearing. I had no idea what was happening. Then the woman who was squatting started to stand and I could see her start to pull up her pants… still swearing. I still had no idea what was happening.
I waited until I saw that woman start to move away. Still hidden, I made my way to the front of the truck. I waited until I saw two heads moving away and took a few steps that allowed me to see the backs of both of them. What a sight! It was obvious as to which one had arrived at our hauler with wet pants because the staining was on the seat of her pants and down her inner thighs to her knees. The other one was a mess!. Her backside was wet from her waistband on down to to just a little below her butt cheeks and then there were spots of wetness on both pant legs right on down to the cuffs. I knew immediately what had happened as I’d seen Elle make the same mistake back when we were in college. She hadn’t pulled her pants down far enough. When she started to pee she was actually peeing into the rolled up body of the pants. I remember watching the two of them walking between the parked vehicles and smiling. Standing there, again reliving the scene I’d witness from under the truck bed, it explained why the one woman had yelled “Stop!” as she did. She could see what the other woman was doing. However, that was the only incident that I saw all day. I remember standing there wondering how many more like it I’d missed.
I’m not sure when it came to mind to wonder about Davo and Leigh. I had no idea who had returned to the motel to pick them up and had to wait until I saw the race car headed in my direction along with the other guys to even ask. I fully expected to see them after the race was over because it was something he always did. When I asked Alan if he’d seen them he just smiled and told me to go see Ra, Dick’s wife. To me, that didn’t make much sense as she wasn’t all that close to Leigh and pretty much avoided Davo. So, I had to wait until we were all loaded up, both race car and camp trailer, while the group decided on a plan of attack to approach her. We were all hungry and it was getting dark rapidly. She had a big smile on her face and was just about to say something when Dick, who was to drive the hauler home, said we were leaving. There wasn’t much I could do about that but hope that when we stopped to eat I could ask her again.
Buster and I, because we were thin, were relegated to riding in the hauler. For some reason, Ra refused to ride in it regardless of who was driving. So, the fourth person ended up being Alan. Cliffy, Dick and Alan were pretty close friends but neither Dick nor Alan was as close to Davo as Cliffy. I’d heard Alan make some less than complimentary remarks about Davo and had an idea that Dick wasn’t all that friendly with him either. In retrospect, they probably ‘tolerated’; him in deference to Cliffy’s relationship with him. In any case I decided to ask why he and Leigh hadn’t shown up after the race. Dick started to say something but Alan jumped in. I can’t say I was shocked when his answer was something close to “Because he’s an ass hole!”… and that was all. Dick didn’t add anything which left me wondering just what had happened.
The first two places where we tried to stop to eat didn’t have adequate parking for our vehicles. We ended up having to wait until we got on the turnpike and stopped at one of the rest stops. It was pay their outrageous prices or go hungry so we gave in. It was there that I was able to speak with Ra. She was a bit reluctant to go into detail but I prodded her by telling some of the things that had happened on the two nights we’d been there including the confrontation with the owner/clerk. Upon hearing that she willingly opened up. Basically, there was no one else but her to go get Davo and Leigh. Beth had meetings to attend regarding her scoring duties and the rest of us were busy in the pits. She told me that at the motel she went to the room that she’d been told to go to but found the door open and no one inside. She said she thought that they might’ve hitched a ride with someone else who was staying at the same place and started to leave. As she turned the car around she noticed a police car at the office but didn’t think much of it. As she started to drive past Leigh jumped out from behind it. Ra’s description was that she looked like she’d been in a fight. Now stopped, Ra asked what was going on and Leigh told her the police were arresting Davo. That was as far as she got because we were all leaving. I tried to ask if he was in jail and she, now smiling broadly, said “No” and headed out the doors with Beth, Cliffy and Joe.
To be continued…
Once the race was over it was pure bedlam in the infield. I have no idea how many race fans were in there but they all wanted to leave at the same time… with only one way out. By then we were resigned to the fact that it would be a long wait until we could move the race car from the impound area and to get it to where the hauler was parked. I was volunteered to stay by the hauler while the others went back to the race car. It didn’t really matter to me but I can say that it turned out to be ‘interesting’. Because of being busy with prepping the car before the race I’d not taken the time to investigate the infield rest room situation as I’d intended based upon my observations on Saturday Then, when it was found we couldn’t move the car we decided to go back to the hauler to watch the end of the race. I proceeded to forget all about it. But now, with people streaming by the hauler on their way to leave, I got to do some observing. It was an amazing cross section of people… young, old and in between. About the only reason I could come up with for them to have chosen the infield to watch was the cost was way cheaper. I don’t know how much it was but, as I mentioned earlier, the sight lines were non existent unless you had a bit of elevation. We had some from the bed of the hauler but even that wasn’t all that great. A few of the passers by stopped by the hauler to ask which car we were but that was all. I’ve always been a ‘people watcher’ going all the way back to when I was racing horses. So, I continued to do it hoping to get a ‘prize’ or two until the crowd going past thinned out. Then, to kill time, I decided to pull out the ramps so Cliffy could just drive the car up onto the hauler when he was able to get the car there. It was when I was under the back to unlatch them that I got a reminder of what I’d witnessed the previous day… a women who’d obviously wet herself at some point during the afternoon and another who was in ‘distress’ were on the other side. I pretty much knew I was hidden so just stayed on my knees. I remember one woman urging the other to “Hurry up!” and then telling her that no one was coming. From my vantage point I could only see her from mid thigh on down. But then I saw the pants start to be lowered. My heart definitely had an accelerated beat to it as I saw the woman start to squat. The next thing was in hearing a female voice scream… “STOP!”. It was loud enough to make me look around and when I turned back to the where the women were I heard a different voice swearing. I had no idea what was happening. Then the woman who was squatting started to stand and I could see her start to pull up her pants… still swearing. I still had no idea what was happening.
I waited until I saw that woman start to move away. Still hidden, I made my way to the front of the truck. I waited until I saw two heads moving away and took a few steps that allowed me to see the backs of both of them. What a sight! It was obvious as to which one had arrived at our hauler with wet pants because the staining was on the seat of her pants and down her inner thighs to her knees. The other one was a mess!. Her backside was wet from her waistband on down to to just a little below her butt cheeks and then there were spots of wetness on both pant legs right on down to the cuffs. I knew immediately what had happened as I’d seen Elle make the same mistake back when we were in college. She hadn’t pulled her pants down far enough. When she started to pee she was actually peeing into the rolled up body of the pants. I remember watching the two of them walking between the parked vehicles and smiling. Standing there, again reliving the scene I’d witness from under the truck bed, it explained why the one woman had yelled “Stop!” as she did. She could see what the other woman was doing. However, that was the only incident that I saw all day. I remember standing there wondering how many more like it I’d missed.
I’m not sure when it came to mind to wonder about Davo and Leigh. I had no idea who had returned to the motel to pick them up and had to wait until I saw the race car headed in my direction along with the other guys to even ask. I fully expected to see them after the race was over because it was something he always did. When I asked Alan if he’d seen them he just smiled and told me to go see Ra, Dick’s wife. To me, that didn’t make much sense as she wasn’t all that close to Leigh and pretty much avoided Davo. So, I had to wait until we were all loaded up, both race car and camp trailer, while the group decided on a plan of attack to approach her. We were all hungry and it was getting dark rapidly. She had a big smile on her face and was just about to say something when Dick, who was to drive the hauler home, said we were leaving. There wasn’t much I could do about that but hope that when we stopped to eat I could ask her again.
Buster and I, because we were thin, were relegated to riding in the hauler. For some reason, Ra refused to ride in it regardless of who was driving. So, the fourth person ended up being Alan. Cliffy, Dick and Alan were pretty close friends but neither Dick nor Alan was as close to Davo as Cliffy. I’d heard Alan make some less than complimentary remarks about Davo and had an idea that Dick wasn’t all that friendly with him either. In retrospect, they probably ‘tolerated’; him in deference to Cliffy’s relationship with him. In any case I decided to ask why he and Leigh hadn’t shown up after the race. Dick started to say something but Alan jumped in. I can’t say I was shocked when his answer was something close to “Because he’s an ass hole!”… and that was all. Dick didn’t add anything which left me wondering just what had happened.
The first two places where we tried to stop to eat didn’t have adequate parking for our vehicles. We ended up having to wait until we got on the turnpike and stopped at one of the rest stops. It was pay their outrageous prices or go hungry so we gave in. It was there that I was able to speak with Ra. She was a bit reluctant to go into detail but I prodded her by telling some of the things that had happened on the two nights we’d been there including the confrontation with the owner/clerk. Upon hearing that she willingly opened up. Basically, there was no one else but her to go get Davo and Leigh. Beth had meetings to attend regarding her scoring duties and the rest of us were busy in the pits. She told me that at the motel she went to the room that she’d been told to go to but found the door open and no one inside. She said she thought that they might’ve hitched a ride with someone else who was staying at the same place and started to leave. As she turned the car around she noticed a police car at the office but didn’t think much of it. As she started to drive past Leigh jumped out from behind it. Ra’s description was that she looked like she’d been in a fight. Now stopped, Ra asked what was going on and Leigh told her the police were arresting Davo. That was as far as she got because we were all leaving. I tried to ask if he was in jail and she, now smiling broadly, said “No” and headed out the doors with Beth, Cliffy and Joe.
To be continued…
Monday, April 09, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy busy (Part 166k)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166k)
If you go back to the very last paragraph of my post (Part 166h) you can see I was concerned about having 45 cars on the track at one time. Having just witnessed the carnage (only nine cars out of 25 were able to finish a 20 lap race) I was expecting to see/hear a loud crash as the cars disappeared into the first turn. (That’s a misnomer since the track was pretty much one continuous turn) The fast cars had been navigating the track in 33 seconds but I’ll tell you it seemed like a lot more time had passed before the cars made it back to the start/finish line. At 100+ miles per hour it didn’t take them long to roar past and then to disappear again. I’m not sure but I’m going to guess that it was on about the fifth lap that we saw the starter, who was located right across the track from us, throw the yellow ‘caution’ flag indicating that there was trouble on the track. We all waited, anxiously, for the cars to go slowly by. With much relief we saw Cliffy and counted him in about 25th place. The main thing was that we were still running.
A note of information here… Back in those days (and up to 2006) scoring was done by hand with one person assigned to each car. Beth was our scorer and was seated right across from our pit location along with all the other scorers. Alan took our blackboard and wrote the car number on it along with a question mark and held it up hoping she’d see it. It took a few laps but then we saw her wave with her thumb up. It was certainly a big help.
The track had a rule that any cars involved in an ‘incident’ and had to be towed back to the pits would not be allowed to return to the race. To have control of that aspect they had a designated ‘impound’ area where the wreckers would quickly deposit the cars and then return to assist in the clean up be it a wreck or blown motor. From where were were we couldn’t see the impound area so had no idea who was involved but Alan had determined that the cars had been from the back end of the field. I have no idea how many laps ran off before the green flag flew again but it was another case of holding your breath until the cars came past. By the time the race reached around 40 laps there had been two other yellow flag periods with one of them involving cars that had been ahead of us. That helped us move up in the running order to 18th. When the cars came by at the slower speed I was able to confirm not only our position but that of C J as well. He’d started 14th and was running in the top 10. However, one thing I’d learned about restarts was that it was often chaotic and this one certainly met that description. We didn’t have instant replays in those days and when, after the race was over, I asked what had happened I got a different answer from each person that I spoke to. The sum and substance was that one of the cars in the lead pack went out of control and hit a number of other cars taking them out of the race altogether.
After that was all sorted out we found ourselves running in 15th place. That was pretty heady stuff and we were really excited. The restart went well with no collisions and there were a number of laps run off without incident. Cliffy had fallen a bit behind the car in front of him but had opened up a bit of a lead on the car right behind him. It looked like a few laps of easy running coming up for us. But then… the yellow flag appeared again. We stood there anxiously awaiting to see our car but it didn’t come. The cars that had been both in front of and behind Cliffy went by but not our car.
All the loudspeakers with the announcers observations were facing towards the grandstands. With the noise of the motors those of us in the pits heard nothing of what was said. Alan wrote a big question mark on the blackboard and was waving it in the general direction of the area where Beth and the other scorers were seated. We could see her just put both her hands up signaling she didn’t know anything either. At that point Alan, without saying anything, took off on a dead run towards the impound area. The rest of us didn’t know what to do. As I’d mentioned, we were totally unprepared for any contingency. When we saw the cars starting to get in line for the next restart it became obvious we weren’t going to see Cliffy and we headed for the impound area ourselves.
My first glimpse of the car showed no outward damage and I wondered why we were placed there. I could see a number of damaged cars with parts strewn about. Getting closer to the car I could see the hood was off and Cliffy and Alan just staring at the motor. My first thought was that it had blown up. Cliffy had the look of disgust written all over his face as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. Dick was probably his closest friend and he was the one to ask what had happened. All Cliffy did was point to the carburetor. It was Alan who ‘interpreted’ the action for the rest of us. The return spring for the accelerator pedal had broken.
As far as damage to the car was concerned it was minor. Alan filled us in on just what had happened. When the track was a complete circle the driver would never really lift his foot off the gas pedal unless there was something ahead that had to be avoided. With the paving of the track and the addition of the short straight away it created a different situation. If the driver didn’t lift his foot as he headed onto the straight portion, the car would drift right out to the guard rail. When Cliffy got to that point on the track he lifted his foot but the car kept going, full speed and on into the guard rail. It was only a glancing blow but he had to do something before reaching the end of the little straight portion. So, he flipped the ignition switch to the off position and tromped on the brakes. The cars were set up to turn left and that included the brakes. They were set with a left bias meaning that if you did what Cliffy did the car would turn left even with the steering wheel headed straight. So… what happened was that the car did start to slow down but it also made a big sweeping left hand turn with the back end coming around to make the car face in the opposite direction. And… when it did it slid into the infield. Because he couldn’t start and control the engine he had to be towed into the impound area. It was determined that the glancing blow to the guard rail hadn’t done any major damage and with an adjustment to the tie rod ends and installation of another spring on the carburetor we could drive the car. But, it wasn’t that simple. While we were gathered around the car there had been another big wreck on the track and in spite of our pleas to the drivers of the wreckers they proceed to just dump the wrecked cars in front of us blocking us in.
None of us but Buster was interested in watching the rest of the race. Cliffy and Dick made the
repairs to the steering components on the car while the rest of us went
about picking up all our equipment from the pit area and getting it back
to the hauler. When I’d driven it from the raceday pits to the infield
I’d been directed to a specific area where the other haulers and trucks
with trailers were to be parked. When we got there we all had the same
question… would we ever get out? We were blocked in three deep. The one
good thing was that from the bed of the hauler we could see most of the
backstretch so watched the end of the race from there. Then the ‘fun’
began. NOT!
To be continued...
If you go back to the very last paragraph of my post (Part 166h) you can see I was concerned about having 45 cars on the track at one time. Having just witnessed the carnage (only nine cars out of 25 were able to finish a 20 lap race) I was expecting to see/hear a loud crash as the cars disappeared into the first turn. (That’s a misnomer since the track was pretty much one continuous turn) The fast cars had been navigating the track in 33 seconds but I’ll tell you it seemed like a lot more time had passed before the cars made it back to the start/finish line. At 100+ miles per hour it didn’t take them long to roar past and then to disappear again. I’m not sure but I’m going to guess that it was on about the fifth lap that we saw the starter, who was located right across the track from us, throw the yellow ‘caution’ flag indicating that there was trouble on the track. We all waited, anxiously, for the cars to go slowly by. With much relief we saw Cliffy and counted him in about 25th place. The main thing was that we were still running.
A note of information here… Back in those days (and up to 2006) scoring was done by hand with one person assigned to each car. Beth was our scorer and was seated right across from our pit location along with all the other scorers. Alan took our blackboard and wrote the car number on it along with a question mark and held it up hoping she’d see it. It took a few laps but then we saw her wave with her thumb up. It was certainly a big help.
The track had a rule that any cars involved in an ‘incident’ and had to be towed back to the pits would not be allowed to return to the race. To have control of that aspect they had a designated ‘impound’ area where the wreckers would quickly deposit the cars and then return to assist in the clean up be it a wreck or blown motor. From where were were we couldn’t see the impound area so had no idea who was involved but Alan had determined that the cars had been from the back end of the field. I have no idea how many laps ran off before the green flag flew again but it was another case of holding your breath until the cars came past. By the time the race reached around 40 laps there had been two other yellow flag periods with one of them involving cars that had been ahead of us. That helped us move up in the running order to 18th. When the cars came by at the slower speed I was able to confirm not only our position but that of C J as well. He’d started 14th and was running in the top 10. However, one thing I’d learned about restarts was that it was often chaotic and this one certainly met that description. We didn’t have instant replays in those days and when, after the race was over, I asked what had happened I got a different answer from each person that I spoke to. The sum and substance was that one of the cars in the lead pack went out of control and hit a number of other cars taking them out of the race altogether.
After that was all sorted out we found ourselves running in 15th place. That was pretty heady stuff and we were really excited. The restart went well with no collisions and there were a number of laps run off without incident. Cliffy had fallen a bit behind the car in front of him but had opened up a bit of a lead on the car right behind him. It looked like a few laps of easy running coming up for us. But then… the yellow flag appeared again. We stood there anxiously awaiting to see our car but it didn’t come. The cars that had been both in front of and behind Cliffy went by but not our car.
All the loudspeakers with the announcers observations were facing towards the grandstands. With the noise of the motors those of us in the pits heard nothing of what was said. Alan wrote a big question mark on the blackboard and was waving it in the general direction of the area where Beth and the other scorers were seated. We could see her just put both her hands up signaling she didn’t know anything either. At that point Alan, without saying anything, took off on a dead run towards the impound area. The rest of us didn’t know what to do. As I’d mentioned, we were totally unprepared for any contingency. When we saw the cars starting to get in line for the next restart it became obvious we weren’t going to see Cliffy and we headed for the impound area ourselves.
My first glimpse of the car showed no outward damage and I wondered why we were placed there. I could see a number of damaged cars with parts strewn about. Getting closer to the car I could see the hood was off and Cliffy and Alan just staring at the motor. My first thought was that it had blown up. Cliffy had the look of disgust written all over his face as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. Dick was probably his closest friend and he was the one to ask what had happened. All Cliffy did was point to the carburetor. It was Alan who ‘interpreted’ the action for the rest of us. The return spring for the accelerator pedal had broken.
As far as damage to the car was concerned it was minor. Alan filled us in on just what had happened. When the track was a complete circle the driver would never really lift his foot off the gas pedal unless there was something ahead that had to be avoided. With the paving of the track and the addition of the short straight away it created a different situation. If the driver didn’t lift his foot as he headed onto the straight portion, the car would drift right out to the guard rail. When Cliffy got to that point on the track he lifted his foot but the car kept going, full speed and on into the guard rail. It was only a glancing blow but he had to do something before reaching the end of the little straight portion. So, he flipped the ignition switch to the off position and tromped on the brakes. The cars were set up to turn left and that included the brakes. They were set with a left bias meaning that if you did what Cliffy did the car would turn left even with the steering wheel headed straight. So… what happened was that the car did start to slow down but it also made a big sweeping left hand turn with the back end coming around to make the car face in the opposite direction. And… when it did it slid into the infield. Because he couldn’t start and control the engine he had to be towed into the impound area. It was determined that the glancing blow to the guard rail hadn’t done any major damage and with an adjustment to the tie rod ends and installation of another spring on the carburetor we could drive the car. But, it wasn’t that simple. While we were gathered around the car there had been another big wreck on the track and in spite of our pleas to the drivers of the wreckers they proceed to just dump the wrecked cars in front of us blocking us in.
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| This was taken right after Cliffy glanced off the outside guard rail. |
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| This was taken right after Cliffy had spun into the infield. Two points I'd like to make here... 1) Note the printing right above the windshield "Excedrin Headache #21" I'd added that back while we were having the problems with the cylinder heads. It was a time when Excedrin was running a series of ads with that sort of theme. I can't be sure that that was the reason but this picture was sent out on the AP wire services to papers all over the US and was picked up by some. One was in Reno Nevada where an old childhood friend lived and knew I was still involved in racing. The picture generated a call from him and renewed an almost forgotten relationship. The picture was also used in many racing papers as well as two magazines that focused on stock car racing. |
To be continued...
Saturday, April 07, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166j)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166j)
With the cramped space it was proving to be impossible to get under either the bed or the love seat so I, reluctantly, settled down on the love seat for the night. I’d been tired when we'd returned from eating but with the effort to find the panties I’d woken myself up. I remember lying on my back staring at the ceiling and trying to come up with an idea as to where they’d disappeared to. The next thing I remember was the door slamming right behind my head. I looked over and it was Davo headed for the bathroom. The next thing I remember was hearing the sounds of two people having sex. I looked over onto the bed and could see Davo on top of Leigh and ‘pumping’ with accompanying grunts. Almost simultaneously, Leigh would let out a bits of a moan. This was a first for me.
The ‘action’ didn’t last all that long. The next thing I knew there was sunlight streaming through the battered slats of the Venetian blinds. Both Davo and Leigh were covered as I sat up. I made the decision to get out of the room before they woke up and even though I was stiff (the cramped position I was in had aggravated my bad back) I managed to get to a standing position and to the door without waking either of them. Buster was sitting up in the back seat of the car so I went over to ask his about his ‘joy ride’ with Davo from the night before. I remember him laughing saying he hadn’t realized he’d even left the motel until he heard the door slam when Davo got back to the motel. (You would have to know Buster to understand that) He went on that finding beer at 9pm at night, even a Saturday night, in New Jersey was almost impossible. It was about then that we saw Alan and Joe appear in the door to their room. They had their bags and headed for the car. That was the first time I thought about looking at my watch… almost 8:30am… and we were supposed to be at the track by 9am. I knew I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Davo we had to get going. Alan, very reluctantly, volunteered. He was back in short order with the keys. The caveat was that someone had to come back to get the two of them by 11am. I remember Alan just shaking his head as he told us that.
The procedure for the day was for all the cars to be in their raceday pit stall, in their starting position, by 11am. We didn’t understand why it had to be so early. What made that a chore was we couldn’t start the engines until 1pm. That meant having to drive the haulers into the pit area, unload the cars and equipment needed for the race and then move the haulers back to the infield. With 45 cars…talk about chaos! We found out that we’d start 23rd, right in the middle of the pack. It also meant that we were located on the start finish line as well. But, being in the middle meant we had to maneuver the hauler in and around a whole bunch of others. While we were doing that Beth and Ra were busy making us breakfast. As it had been since we arrived it was 'hurry up and wait' with the problem being the track officials were not all that coordinated with their directions. It was obvious to me that Cliffy was getting nervous. Never one with a lot of patience, the confusion had him ‘frazzled’. To be truthful, we were all pretty nervous. We finally found our correct place, unloaded the car and equipment and I, of all people was delegated to move the hauler back to the infield grass. What made that interesting was that I’d never driven the hauler… but didn’t hesitate to jump up into the cab. Much to the other guys enjoyment, I stalled the truck right away. I quickly found out why I was given the job… it took ‘forever’ to make my way through the pit road traffic and back to the infield grass. I’d lost track of the time and had fully expected to see a lot of people wandering around but the whole area was basically empty. The grandstands and infield weren’t opened to the public until 11am. After a quick walk over to the camp trailer I was rewarded with a nice helping of scrambled eggs and hash browns. Being the last one there paid off for me.
I went over to our pit stall and took a close look at who some of the faster cars were. C J was starting 14th and another car from our Saturday night track was in 21st place. It was somewhat funny in that the driver, owner and crew of that car all lived within a few miles of the garage where we worked out of but were basically strangers. When I walked past the car I nodded my head to acknowledge them but was ignored. I continued on down the line taking a close look at some of the cars that I’d constantly read about in the racing papers. As expected when I arrived at C J’s car, ’Seeg’, his father was ‘standing guard’ with his ever present cigar in the corner of his mouth. He was in a lot better mood than he’d been the previous day. We talked for a few minutes and then I saw Karen, C J’s girlfriend, appear. She was in the usual ‘uniform’ that I’d become accustomed to… white jeans, white T-shirt with a big red number 1 on the front along with a red satin jacket with C J’s name embroidered across the back. She was loading some things into a cooler back by the tools. I was not in a prime position to check her out for a VPL but hoped that before the festivities started that I’d get a look.
Speaking of the ‘festivities’, there was to be a small parade with Robin Roberts, a famous pitcher for the Philadelphia Phillies, as the Grand Marshall. Because of the close proximity to Philadelphia they had invited a group of Mummers to be a part of it with a couple of local high school bands providing the music. To be truthful, I didn’t care one bit about all the pomp and circumstance. When a kid came by selling programs I decided to buy one. With over an hour to go before the race started I decided to walk the length of the pits and to fill out the starting line up as a memento. One thing I made note of was that there were some cars who were in the race that really shouldn’t have been in it and were only there because of the guaranteed starting position for having won their hometown track race. I felt bad that some good cars weren't racing.
The real activity started with a blare of trumpets followed by the parade. When the driver introductions started I really got nervous. That was followed by the National Anthem and the call “Drivers, start your engines!” That sound took my breath away. From our position in the pits we could see the grandstands were packed. I immediately wondered what the crowd in the infield was like. I’d made the determination that other than being closer to the cars and drivers there was no advantage in being there. It was impossible to see more than a small bit of the track. It was somewhat the same from the pits although we could see about three hundred feet of action as the cars would go past.
In writing this I’m amazed at just how naive we all were. We had no plan for any kind of contingency. There were no air guns in those days for changing tires if it were needed. Just an old fashioned lug wrench. We hadn’t discussed who was to do what if Cliffy did come in. Of course, with no radios there was no way to communicate with him. We did have a blackboard and I’d made a big 21 on it so if he were to come down pit road he’d know where we were. And, as far as gas was concerned almost everyone in the race was hoping they could make it all the way (200 miles). We did have some spare gas but to get it in the tank was going to be difficult, at best. I remember standing there as the cars raced past for the start and I couldn’t breath.
With the cramped space it was proving to be impossible to get under either the bed or the love seat so I, reluctantly, settled down on the love seat for the night. I’d been tired when we'd returned from eating but with the effort to find the panties I’d woken myself up. I remember lying on my back staring at the ceiling and trying to come up with an idea as to where they’d disappeared to. The next thing I remember was the door slamming right behind my head. I looked over and it was Davo headed for the bathroom. The next thing I remember was hearing the sounds of two people having sex. I looked over onto the bed and could see Davo on top of Leigh and ‘pumping’ with accompanying grunts. Almost simultaneously, Leigh would let out a bits of a moan. This was a first for me.
The ‘action’ didn’t last all that long. The next thing I knew there was sunlight streaming through the battered slats of the Venetian blinds. Both Davo and Leigh were covered as I sat up. I made the decision to get out of the room before they woke up and even though I was stiff (the cramped position I was in had aggravated my bad back) I managed to get to a standing position and to the door without waking either of them. Buster was sitting up in the back seat of the car so I went over to ask his about his ‘joy ride’ with Davo from the night before. I remember him laughing saying he hadn’t realized he’d even left the motel until he heard the door slam when Davo got back to the motel. (You would have to know Buster to understand that) He went on that finding beer at 9pm at night, even a Saturday night, in New Jersey was almost impossible. It was about then that we saw Alan and Joe appear in the door to their room. They had their bags and headed for the car. That was the first time I thought about looking at my watch… almost 8:30am… and we were supposed to be at the track by 9am. I knew I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Davo we had to get going. Alan, very reluctantly, volunteered. He was back in short order with the keys. The caveat was that someone had to come back to get the two of them by 11am. I remember Alan just shaking his head as he told us that.
The procedure for the day was for all the cars to be in their raceday pit stall, in their starting position, by 11am. We didn’t understand why it had to be so early. What made that a chore was we couldn’t start the engines until 1pm. That meant having to drive the haulers into the pit area, unload the cars and equipment needed for the race and then move the haulers back to the infield. With 45 cars…talk about chaos! We found out that we’d start 23rd, right in the middle of the pack. It also meant that we were located on the start finish line as well. But, being in the middle meant we had to maneuver the hauler in and around a whole bunch of others. While we were doing that Beth and Ra were busy making us breakfast. As it had been since we arrived it was 'hurry up and wait' with the problem being the track officials were not all that coordinated with their directions. It was obvious to me that Cliffy was getting nervous. Never one with a lot of patience, the confusion had him ‘frazzled’. To be truthful, we were all pretty nervous. We finally found our correct place, unloaded the car and equipment and I, of all people was delegated to move the hauler back to the infield grass. What made that interesting was that I’d never driven the hauler… but didn’t hesitate to jump up into the cab. Much to the other guys enjoyment, I stalled the truck right away. I quickly found out why I was given the job… it took ‘forever’ to make my way through the pit road traffic and back to the infield grass. I’d lost track of the time and had fully expected to see a lot of people wandering around but the whole area was basically empty. The grandstands and infield weren’t opened to the public until 11am. After a quick walk over to the camp trailer I was rewarded with a nice helping of scrambled eggs and hash browns. Being the last one there paid off for me.
I went over to our pit stall and took a close look at who some of the faster cars were. C J was starting 14th and another car from our Saturday night track was in 21st place. It was somewhat funny in that the driver, owner and crew of that car all lived within a few miles of the garage where we worked out of but were basically strangers. When I walked past the car I nodded my head to acknowledge them but was ignored. I continued on down the line taking a close look at some of the cars that I’d constantly read about in the racing papers. As expected when I arrived at C J’s car, ’Seeg’, his father was ‘standing guard’ with his ever present cigar in the corner of his mouth. He was in a lot better mood than he’d been the previous day. We talked for a few minutes and then I saw Karen, C J’s girlfriend, appear. She was in the usual ‘uniform’ that I’d become accustomed to… white jeans, white T-shirt with a big red number 1 on the front along with a red satin jacket with C J’s name embroidered across the back. She was loading some things into a cooler back by the tools. I was not in a prime position to check her out for a VPL but hoped that before the festivities started that I’d get a look.
Speaking of the ‘festivities’, there was to be a small parade with Robin Roberts, a famous pitcher for the Philadelphia Phillies, as the Grand Marshall. Because of the close proximity to Philadelphia they had invited a group of Mummers to be a part of it with a couple of local high school bands providing the music. To be truthful, I didn’t care one bit about all the pomp and circumstance. When a kid came by selling programs I decided to buy one. With over an hour to go before the race started I decided to walk the length of the pits and to fill out the starting line up as a memento. One thing I made note of was that there were some cars who were in the race that really shouldn’t have been in it and were only there because of the guaranteed starting position for having won their hometown track race. I felt bad that some good cars weren't racing.
The real activity started with a blare of trumpets followed by the parade. When the driver introductions started I really got nervous. That was followed by the National Anthem and the call “Drivers, start your engines!” That sound took my breath away. From our position in the pits we could see the grandstands were packed. I immediately wondered what the crowd in the infield was like. I’d made the determination that other than being closer to the cars and drivers there was no advantage in being there. It was impossible to see more than a small bit of the track. It was somewhat the same from the pits although we could see about three hundred feet of action as the cars would go past.
In writing this I’m amazed at just how naive we all were. We had no plan for any kind of contingency. There were no air guns in those days for changing tires if it were needed. Just an old fashioned lug wrench. We hadn’t discussed who was to do what if Cliffy did come in. Of course, with no radios there was no way to communicate with him. We did have a blackboard and I’d made a big 21 on it so if he were to come down pit road he’d know where we were. And, as far as gas was concerned almost everyone in the race was hoping they could make it all the way (200 miles). We did have some spare gas but to get it in the tank was going to be difficult, at best. I remember standing there as the cars raced past for the start and I couldn’t breath.
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| The program |
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| The starting line up... |
Thursday, April 05, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166i)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166i)
Nothing ‘concrete’ had been set up as to meeting up with Davo and Leslie after the two races. The one thing that Alan, Joe, Buster and I were in agreement in was that we needed food. All we’d had to eat all day were a couple of sandwiches and a few ‘munchies’. It was now after 7pm. Buster figured that Davo would want to talk with Cliffy to find out how he felt about the race the next day so we camped out at the gate where cars and people could cross the track. At 6’5” it wasn’t hard to spot Davo but when we did Leslie was missing... but I’m not sure anybody brought that up. As Buster had suggested Davo wanted to go see Cliffy. But… Alan had a plan. Almost pushing Davo backwards he told him Cliffy was in a mandatory meeting of all the drivers who’d qualified for the big race. He assured him he could adequately convey Cliffy’s thoughts but the four of us were desperate for food. Reluctantly, Davo retreated and we followed him to his car.
It was a black 1965 Ford Fairlane 500 four door that had been wrecked and Davo bought it from an insurance company for practically nothing. There was a former classmate of Davo’s who lived in our town and specialized in rebuilding wrecked cars that had been junked. I’d seen Davo’s car before it had been painted. With four different colored body parts you couldn't miss it. I remember doing a ‘double take’ the first time I saw it on the road. Buster had taken the front seat on the way to the track in the morning pleading car sickness when riding in the back and claimed he had ‘dibs’ on it as we approached the car. As Davo walked up he slammed his hand against the door. Immediately a head popped up. It was Leslie who’d been asleep in the front seat. So, with Buster and Leslie in the front that put Joe, Alan and I in the back. With both of them over 200 pounds it put the ’squeeze’ on me. Getting in, I couldn’t help but look over the back of the front seat and glancing at Leslie as she attempted to get into a sitting position. I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw a bit of discoloration on her backside. But that was all I saw as she slid over to let Buster in. There wasn’t time for me to focus on it as all the hue and cry was to get food.
The safest bet was to head for the diner where we’d eaten the night before. At the diner the guys piled out of the car and headed for the door but Leslie stayed behind. This time I asked about it. Davo made a bit of a face and kind of mumbled a comment… “potty pants…” and headed inside. My observation had been correct but what really had me excited was that I was sleeping in the room with Davo and Leslie and, hopefully, might get a chance to peek at her peed in panties. However, I couldn't dwell on it as food was the primary interest. The prior night we’d all carried beer in from Davo’s trunk. Joe asked about it while waiting for the food to be served and Davo just laughed. He explained that it had been a long day and he’d been thirsty… and then laughed when Alan said something about sharing it with Leigh. I don’t remember his exact comment but I definitely remember him calling her “potty pants” again and laughing some more. As bad as that sounds, Davo did order her up some food and took it out to the car for her. While he was gone there was a quick conversation between the four of us about their relationship. None of us could come up with any idea why the two of them were together. When Davo came back I concentrated on what it would be like when we got to the room.
Without beer it didn’t take long to finish eating. I, for one, was ready to skip taking a shower. I rationalized it by thinking I hadn’t really done anything that required physical labor all day. The temperature was in the low 60’s and the shower stall was so grungy that I really didn’t want to step back in it again. It turned out that my agonizing about it was for naught. When Davo opened the door to the room and turned on the light it was obvious the bed was unmade. He walked right back to the bathroom and cursed as he looked in. The towels that we’d used the night before were still in a pile under the sink. Standing in the bathroom doorway he looked at me and told me he was going to get Joe, Alan and Buster and was headed to the office. I didn’t like the sound of that but did as he instructed. The five of us walked across the courtyard and then tried to open the door to the office. The lights were on but the door was locked. Davo started pounding on the door frame but it was Buster who saw the sign in the window. The place was sold out and the office was closed. For a few seconds I thought Davo was going to kick the door in… but he didn’t. We stood there lamenting our situation for maybe five minutes before returning to our rooms.
We’d left Leigh behind and when we got to the room found her in the bed and under the covers. Davo was really PO’d about not having towels. I remember him looking at Leigh, cursing and then asking me if I wanted to go find some beer. I still hadn’t recovered from the lack of sleep from Thursday into Friday on our trip to the track and, as uncomfortable as it had been, the love seat looked mighty inviting. I told him I’d “pass”. He called me something and headed out the door. He left it open and I could hear him trying to cajole Alan and Joe to go with him but got no takers. Buster had already climbed into the back seat of Davo’s car when we came back from the office so when I heard the engine start I couldn’t help but smile. Poor Buster… NOT!
That left me alone in the room with Leigh and it didn’t take long for me to start wondering what she’d done with her pee’d in clothes. Her bag was against the wall at the end of the bed and I could see there were some things stuffed up against it. She was out cold so I wasn’t too worried about having her wake up. I kicked the pile of clothes but it appeared that they were what she’d worn the previous day. At that point I didn’t care. I reached down and found something light blue sticking out from inside the slacks she’d worn. I remember thinking "Jackpot!" as I pulled the panties apart from the pants and held them up for inspection. The light was poor but when I turned to the label I saw a name I wasn’t familiar with… Greenco Maid. They had a nice lace treatment above the leg openings on the front and I immediately made the decision to put them into my duffel bag. As crazy as the weekend had been so far I couldn’t foresee it changing by morning when we’d be leaving and by then the chances of her missing them would be slim to none.
I remember holding them in my hand and looking at Leigh as I stuffed them into a pocket on my bag wondering if she was sleeping in her peed in clothes. In the couple of times I seen her ‘wasted’ I knew it was certainly possible. I made my way to the other side of the bed and, once there, didn’t know if I had the nerve to pick up the covers to check it out. After a few seconds I did and it was a surprise. Other than the blouse she’d been wearing she was naked. I gently let the covers back down and headed for the love seat. In a previous post I explained that the love seat was crammed between the front wall and the bed leaving little room to ‘navigate’ my feet and legs. As I was doing it I felt something under one of my feet. Once I got my body up and positioned on it I put my hand down to the floor and tried to find what I’d stepped on. It definitely was cloth but it had a funny feel to it. I tugged on it but I couldn’t get it up. With my curiosity at a high level I re-positioned myself so was now kneeling on the seat and was able to get it free as I pulled on it. It was the pants Leigh’d been wearing… but where were the panties.
To be continued…
Nothing ‘concrete’ had been set up as to meeting up with Davo and Leslie after the two races. The one thing that Alan, Joe, Buster and I were in agreement in was that we needed food. All we’d had to eat all day were a couple of sandwiches and a few ‘munchies’. It was now after 7pm. Buster figured that Davo would want to talk with Cliffy to find out how he felt about the race the next day so we camped out at the gate where cars and people could cross the track. At 6’5” it wasn’t hard to spot Davo but when we did Leslie was missing... but I’m not sure anybody brought that up. As Buster had suggested Davo wanted to go see Cliffy. But… Alan had a plan. Almost pushing Davo backwards he told him Cliffy was in a mandatory meeting of all the drivers who’d qualified for the big race. He assured him he could adequately convey Cliffy’s thoughts but the four of us were desperate for food. Reluctantly, Davo retreated and we followed him to his car.
It was a black 1965 Ford Fairlane 500 four door that had been wrecked and Davo bought it from an insurance company for practically nothing. There was a former classmate of Davo’s who lived in our town and specialized in rebuilding wrecked cars that had been junked. I’d seen Davo’s car before it had been painted. With four different colored body parts you couldn't miss it. I remember doing a ‘double take’ the first time I saw it on the road. Buster had taken the front seat on the way to the track in the morning pleading car sickness when riding in the back and claimed he had ‘dibs’ on it as we approached the car. As Davo walked up he slammed his hand against the door. Immediately a head popped up. It was Leslie who’d been asleep in the front seat. So, with Buster and Leslie in the front that put Joe, Alan and I in the back. With both of them over 200 pounds it put the ’squeeze’ on me. Getting in, I couldn’t help but look over the back of the front seat and glancing at Leslie as she attempted to get into a sitting position. I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw a bit of discoloration on her backside. But that was all I saw as she slid over to let Buster in. There wasn’t time for me to focus on it as all the hue and cry was to get food.
The safest bet was to head for the diner where we’d eaten the night before. At the diner the guys piled out of the car and headed for the door but Leslie stayed behind. This time I asked about it. Davo made a bit of a face and kind of mumbled a comment… “potty pants…” and headed inside. My observation had been correct but what really had me excited was that I was sleeping in the room with Davo and Leslie and, hopefully, might get a chance to peek at her peed in panties. However, I couldn't dwell on it as food was the primary interest. The prior night we’d all carried beer in from Davo’s trunk. Joe asked about it while waiting for the food to be served and Davo just laughed. He explained that it had been a long day and he’d been thirsty… and then laughed when Alan said something about sharing it with Leigh. I don’t remember his exact comment but I definitely remember him calling her “potty pants” again and laughing some more. As bad as that sounds, Davo did order her up some food and took it out to the car for her. While he was gone there was a quick conversation between the four of us about their relationship. None of us could come up with any idea why the two of them were together. When Davo came back I concentrated on what it would be like when we got to the room.
Without beer it didn’t take long to finish eating. I, for one, was ready to skip taking a shower. I rationalized it by thinking I hadn’t really done anything that required physical labor all day. The temperature was in the low 60’s and the shower stall was so grungy that I really didn’t want to step back in it again. It turned out that my agonizing about it was for naught. When Davo opened the door to the room and turned on the light it was obvious the bed was unmade. He walked right back to the bathroom and cursed as he looked in. The towels that we’d used the night before were still in a pile under the sink. Standing in the bathroom doorway he looked at me and told me he was going to get Joe, Alan and Buster and was headed to the office. I didn’t like the sound of that but did as he instructed. The five of us walked across the courtyard and then tried to open the door to the office. The lights were on but the door was locked. Davo started pounding on the door frame but it was Buster who saw the sign in the window. The place was sold out and the office was closed. For a few seconds I thought Davo was going to kick the door in… but he didn’t. We stood there lamenting our situation for maybe five minutes before returning to our rooms.
We’d left Leigh behind and when we got to the room found her in the bed and under the covers. Davo was really PO’d about not having towels. I remember him looking at Leigh, cursing and then asking me if I wanted to go find some beer. I still hadn’t recovered from the lack of sleep from Thursday into Friday on our trip to the track and, as uncomfortable as it had been, the love seat looked mighty inviting. I told him I’d “pass”. He called me something and headed out the door. He left it open and I could hear him trying to cajole Alan and Joe to go with him but got no takers. Buster had already climbed into the back seat of Davo’s car when we came back from the office so when I heard the engine start I couldn’t help but smile. Poor Buster… NOT!
That left me alone in the room with Leigh and it didn’t take long for me to start wondering what she’d done with her pee’d in clothes. Her bag was against the wall at the end of the bed and I could see there were some things stuffed up against it. She was out cold so I wasn’t too worried about having her wake up. I kicked the pile of clothes but it appeared that they were what she’d worn the previous day. At that point I didn’t care. I reached down and found something light blue sticking out from inside the slacks she’d worn. I remember thinking "Jackpot!" as I pulled the panties apart from the pants and held them up for inspection. The light was poor but when I turned to the label I saw a name I wasn’t familiar with… Greenco Maid. They had a nice lace treatment above the leg openings on the front and I immediately made the decision to put them into my duffel bag. As crazy as the weekend had been so far I couldn’t foresee it changing by morning when we’d be leaving and by then the chances of her missing them would be slim to none.
I remember holding them in my hand and looking at Leigh as I stuffed them into a pocket on my bag wondering if she was sleeping in her peed in clothes. In the couple of times I seen her ‘wasted’ I knew it was certainly possible. I made my way to the other side of the bed and, once there, didn’t know if I had the nerve to pick up the covers to check it out. After a few seconds I did and it was a surprise. Other than the blouse she’d been wearing she was naked. I gently let the covers back down and headed for the love seat. In a previous post I explained that the love seat was crammed between the front wall and the bed leaving little room to ‘navigate’ my feet and legs. As I was doing it I felt something under one of my feet. Once I got my body up and positioned on it I put my hand down to the floor and tried to find what I’d stepped on. It definitely was cloth but it had a funny feel to it. I tugged on it but I couldn’t get it up. With my curiosity at a high level I re-positioned myself so was now kneeling on the seat and was able to get it free as I pulled on it. It was the pants Leigh’d been wearing… but where were the panties.
To be continued…
Tuesday, April 03, 2018
KEEPING UP... Busy, busy, busy (Part 166h)
KEEPING UP… Busy, busy, busy (Part 166h)
Since there were no assigned spots in each team could park wherever they wanted. Because Cliffy and Dick were staying in the camp trailer located right there in the infield they got up early and moved the hauler to a spot where Beth could see each car as it pulled out onto the track to take time. They were able to pull the hauler right up next to the fence at the end of pit road. As it turned out none of the other teams from our regular Saturday night track ended up parking near us so I had to go looking for them. I was primarily looking to find C J’s group. Beth had told us that he’d turned his best lap 2 tenth’s of a second faster than we did and thought his speed was 109 miles per hour. When I’d talked with C J’s father the day before I’d heard him say they expected to compete for the pole position and to turn a lap around 110 1/2 mph with their big NASCAR motor. I was curious to hear what he had to say about not even being close.
He, like us, had been one of the earlier cars to take time and, like us, had to sit around and wait. “Seeg”, C J’s father, was sitting in the cab of their hauler when I walked up and I didn’t have to say a word. Seeing me, he just threw both of his hands up in the air and shrugged his shoulders. His first words were to congratulate us on how fast we’d gone. I decided not to pursue my original thoughts to ask what had happened. It was obvious he was disappointed. I have no idea what arrangement they had made to get to use the NASCAR motor but I did know that it hadn’t come cheap. That was one thing about that period in time… there were no restrictions on the motors other than you could only run one carburetor (unless you were running a six cylinder engine). In fact there was a rumor that one car had a Lincoln engine that was over 500 cubic inch displacement. (Our motor was only 428 cubic inches) To change the subject I asked if he knew where some of the other “locals” (meaning cars that raced at our two area tracks) were located. The one I was interested in was the car sponsored by the Chevrolet dealer owned by the father in law of Lynda, from the stock brokerage office. Back during the Summer she’d made an ‘off-hand’ comment about possibly sponsoring us. Because we were running a Ford motor that conversation died a quick death. But I still wanted to see the car and what they were running for equipment. “Seeg” had pointed me in the general direction of where he’d last seen the car and I headed over there.
It was only a short distance but it was more towards the middle of the track. In walking in that direction I got a look at the line(s) for the rest rooms and it had doubled since I’d been there a couple of hours earlier. My first thought was to wonder what the lines would be like on Sunday when there would be even more people there to watch the race itself. At first I didn’t see the car but saw a pick-up truck with the name of the dealership on the door with an open trailer behind it. I knew that the car owner had changed drivers around the time Lynda had spoken to me but was new to the area and I had no idea what he looked like. They raced at the track where I had driven at and since I hadn’t been there in a couple of years didn’t know anything about the car. I asked one of the guys where the car was and he pointed to a car moving towards us. I was a bit surprised as it was a newer model body than the majority of the cars there. I asked how they did as far as their time and the guy gave me a thumbs down. I could see he wasn’t interested in small talk so I started back to our car. But… the long lines had intrigued me so I took a roundabout way back. There were still only a few males. I stopped and studied the actions of the women and saw a few doing the ‘potty dance’ but none seemed to be in dire straits. I won’t lie… I was disappointed. Finally moving on, I saw two women sort of running/skipping towards me and the line. All of a sudden one of them stopped and bent over at the waist. She was sort of yelling at the other woman as she had her thighs together and was bouncing a bit. After a few seconds she stood up and made a few steps but, again, stopped and stooped over. But this time she was struggling to get at her waist with her hands. After a few seconds she stood up straight and I could see she was unbuttoning her pants… or trying to. But almost as quickly as she’d stood up was again bent over at the waist. The other woman was talking to her but I couldn’t hear what was being said. Recognizing the situation, I stopped and watched what was unfolding in front of me. When the other woman saw me she started cursing at me and waving her arms like she was shooing me away. But my focus was on the bent over woman. It wasn’t clear to me if she’d fully unbuttoned her pants but she stood there, still somewhat bent over, trying to get her pants to slide down over her hips… but was unsuccessful. Giving up her quest she just squatted down holding her head with one hand and steadying herself by touching the ground with the other. The other woman continued to curse at me calling me all kinds of insulting names. I wanted to stay to see how much ‘damage’ the squatting woman had done to her pants but two guys were jogging towards them and I figured it was a good idea to move on.
It was approaching 5pm when I got back to our hauler and I could see the guys on the team were pretty happy. Alan told me that it was all but official that we’d made the starting line up. Beth had figured that we had turned the 15th fastest time of the non guaranteed starters and with just a few cars yet to go should be "safe". All we had to do was wait for them to take time. Since we were qualified there was no reason not to put the car back on the hauler so that’s what we did. All the qualified cars were to be impounded and security guards would be patrolling the area.
Writing this I’m trying to come up with a description of just how I felt knowing that we were ‘in the show’. Excited? Relieved? Anxious? All of those word were part of it. But, surprisingly, I remember being calm as we strapped the car down to the bed of the hauler. After the last car to take time finished there was to be the official announcement of the fastest qualifier and a trophy presentation. Then there would be the two 20 mile “Last Chance” races for the 50 fastest non-qualifiers. I’d heard that they were always ‘entertaining’ and had been told that the first time C J had raced there he had to compete in one of them. Supposedly, he got in a wreck and had crashed through the guard rail and ended up in a grove of trees. So, I was anxious to see the first race on the track as a preview for the big race.
It didn’t take long for the ‘action’ to take place. Very early in the race one car hit the wall and couple of others were involved. But the big wreck came near the end of the race. A couple of cars tangled and one ended up flipping and catching fire. At the end only nine of the 25 cars were able to finish. To me, that didn’t give me a lot of confidence for our chances in the championship race what with 45 cars to be on the track at the same time. Only time would tell.
To be continued...
Since there were no assigned spots in each team could park wherever they wanted. Because Cliffy and Dick were staying in the camp trailer located right there in the infield they got up early and moved the hauler to a spot where Beth could see each car as it pulled out onto the track to take time. They were able to pull the hauler right up next to the fence at the end of pit road. As it turned out none of the other teams from our regular Saturday night track ended up parking near us so I had to go looking for them. I was primarily looking to find C J’s group. Beth had told us that he’d turned his best lap 2 tenth’s of a second faster than we did and thought his speed was 109 miles per hour. When I’d talked with C J’s father the day before I’d heard him say they expected to compete for the pole position and to turn a lap around 110 1/2 mph with their big NASCAR motor. I was curious to hear what he had to say about not even being close.
He, like us, had been one of the earlier cars to take time and, like us, had to sit around and wait. “Seeg”, C J’s father, was sitting in the cab of their hauler when I walked up and I didn’t have to say a word. Seeing me, he just threw both of his hands up in the air and shrugged his shoulders. His first words were to congratulate us on how fast we’d gone. I decided not to pursue my original thoughts to ask what had happened. It was obvious he was disappointed. I have no idea what arrangement they had made to get to use the NASCAR motor but I did know that it hadn’t come cheap. That was one thing about that period in time… there were no restrictions on the motors other than you could only run one carburetor (unless you were running a six cylinder engine). In fact there was a rumor that one car had a Lincoln engine that was over 500 cubic inch displacement. (Our motor was only 428 cubic inches) To change the subject I asked if he knew where some of the other “locals” (meaning cars that raced at our two area tracks) were located. The one I was interested in was the car sponsored by the Chevrolet dealer owned by the father in law of Lynda, from the stock brokerage office. Back during the Summer she’d made an ‘off-hand’ comment about possibly sponsoring us. Because we were running a Ford motor that conversation died a quick death. But I still wanted to see the car and what they were running for equipment. “Seeg” had pointed me in the general direction of where he’d last seen the car and I headed over there.
It was only a short distance but it was more towards the middle of the track. In walking in that direction I got a look at the line(s) for the rest rooms and it had doubled since I’d been there a couple of hours earlier. My first thought was to wonder what the lines would be like on Sunday when there would be even more people there to watch the race itself. At first I didn’t see the car but saw a pick-up truck with the name of the dealership on the door with an open trailer behind it. I knew that the car owner had changed drivers around the time Lynda had spoken to me but was new to the area and I had no idea what he looked like. They raced at the track where I had driven at and since I hadn’t been there in a couple of years didn’t know anything about the car. I asked one of the guys where the car was and he pointed to a car moving towards us. I was a bit surprised as it was a newer model body than the majority of the cars there. I asked how they did as far as their time and the guy gave me a thumbs down. I could see he wasn’t interested in small talk so I started back to our car. But… the long lines had intrigued me so I took a roundabout way back. There were still only a few males. I stopped and studied the actions of the women and saw a few doing the ‘potty dance’ but none seemed to be in dire straits. I won’t lie… I was disappointed. Finally moving on, I saw two women sort of running/skipping towards me and the line. All of a sudden one of them stopped and bent over at the waist. She was sort of yelling at the other woman as she had her thighs together and was bouncing a bit. After a few seconds she stood up and made a few steps but, again, stopped and stooped over. But this time she was struggling to get at her waist with her hands. After a few seconds she stood up straight and I could see she was unbuttoning her pants… or trying to. But almost as quickly as she’d stood up was again bent over at the waist. The other woman was talking to her but I couldn’t hear what was being said. Recognizing the situation, I stopped and watched what was unfolding in front of me. When the other woman saw me she started cursing at me and waving her arms like she was shooing me away. But my focus was on the bent over woman. It wasn’t clear to me if she’d fully unbuttoned her pants but she stood there, still somewhat bent over, trying to get her pants to slide down over her hips… but was unsuccessful. Giving up her quest she just squatted down holding her head with one hand and steadying herself by touching the ground with the other. The other woman continued to curse at me calling me all kinds of insulting names. I wanted to stay to see how much ‘damage’ the squatting woman had done to her pants but two guys were jogging towards them and I figured it was a good idea to move on.
It was approaching 5pm when I got back to our hauler and I could see the guys on the team were pretty happy. Alan told me that it was all but official that we’d made the starting line up. Beth had figured that we had turned the 15th fastest time of the non guaranteed starters and with just a few cars yet to go should be "safe". All we had to do was wait for them to take time. Since we were qualified there was no reason not to put the car back on the hauler so that’s what we did. All the qualified cars were to be impounded and security guards would be patrolling the area.
Writing this I’m trying to come up with a description of just how I felt knowing that we were ‘in the show’. Excited? Relieved? Anxious? All of those word were part of it. But, surprisingly, I remember being calm as we strapped the car down to the bed of the hauler. After the last car to take time finished there was to be the official announcement of the fastest qualifier and a trophy presentation. Then there would be the two 20 mile “Last Chance” races for the 50 fastest non-qualifiers. I’d heard that they were always ‘entertaining’ and had been told that the first time C J had raced there he had to compete in one of them. Supposedly, he got in a wreck and had crashed through the guard rail and ended up in a grove of trees. So, I was anxious to see the first race on the track as a preview for the big race.
It didn’t take long for the ‘action’ to take place. Very early in the race one car hit the wall and couple of others were involved. But the big wreck came near the end of the race. A couple of cars tangled and one ended up flipping and catching fire. At the end only nine of the 25 cars were able to finish. To me, that didn’t give me a lot of confidence for our chances in the championship race what with 45 cars to be on the track at the same time. Only time would tell.
To be continued...
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