admin
22 December 2023
Sit right back, and let me tell you a tale of misplaced affections and youth gone wild.
It was the summer of ‘86, or maybe it was ‘87. I was home on vacation from boarding school, and hanging out with Carla Fourman. She was the focal point of my earliest sexual fantasies.
The Dangerous Miss Carla Fourman who once rode a ten-speed now drove a Nova and listened to all metal, all of the time. She wore her red hair feathered, which helped to hide her perpetual squint some of you might identify with recreational chemical use. She was just so cool, and I was such a dick.
Years before, we lived next door to each other in a quiet neighborhood off Parsons, one block from Heyl Elementary where we had attended school together. I used to carry her books. But then I was sent to boarding school and only saw her school pictures, watching her glowing innocence get more and more jaded. Being locked in an isolated environment smack ass in the middle of Amish country prevented me from speaking her language, and as the years went by the letters became scarce.
We drove around town one day that summer listening to the radio, smoking and pretending to be cool and aloof. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Steering with one hand, she opened a small vial of pills, threw back a handful and handed the bottle to me. I made a point of counting out one extra and washed them down with her warm beer. I was that hard. I got cocky and began to babble. Eventually she mumbled something about having to go see this guy, and dropped me at my parents trailer-- I'm hallucinating madly. She burned rubber out of my life, and I never saw her again.
I guess this wasn’t about love after all.
It was the summer of ‘86, or maybe it was ‘87. I was home on vacation from boarding school, and hanging out with Carla Fourman. She was the focal point of my earliest sexual fantasies.
The Dangerous Miss Carla Fourman who once rode a ten-speed now drove a Nova and listened to all metal, all of the time. She wore her red hair feathered, which helped to hide her perpetual squint some of you might identify with recreational chemical use. She was just so cool, and I was such a dick.
Years before, we lived next door to each other in a quiet neighborhood off Parsons, one block from Heyl Elementary where we had attended school together. I used to carry her books. But then I was sent to boarding school and only saw her school pictures, watching her glowing innocence get more and more jaded. Being locked in an isolated environment smack ass in the middle of Amish country prevented me from speaking her language, and as the years went by the letters became scarce.
We drove around town one day that summer listening to the radio, smoking and pretending to be cool and aloof. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Steering with one hand, she opened a small vial of pills, threw back a handful and handed the bottle to me. I made a point of counting out one extra and washed them down with her warm beer. I was that hard. I got cocky and began to babble. Eventually she mumbled something about having to go see this guy, and dropped me at my parents trailer-- I'm hallucinating madly. She burned rubber out of my life, and I never saw her again.
I guess this wasn’t about love after all.
artid
396
Old Image
3_6_car.swf
issue
vol 3 - issue 06 (feb 2001)
section
pen_think