Saturday, July 23, 2011

Losing The Wallet At Your Convenience

Once upon a time, I worked at a lush Westin resort. Some of the best years of my life were spent there, making some really great memories. It was a place where I made friends that I still have to this day, seventeen years later.

Two of those friends are Greg and Alan.

Greg and I had an immediate intellectual connection. We thought the same, laughed about the same things, found the same people to be morons and shared a mindset that was sometimes frighteningly similar.  You would think we were separated at birth. At one time, he was my boss (slave driver!), but other than that dark moment in our working relationship, our days on the job were the best.

Alan and I met over the phone.  I worked in one department, he worked in another, and although we were in the same building, I had never met him in person. I was an "upstairs" chick, he was a "downstairs" guy. There really was not a need for us to interact in person, but our departments did talk to each other regularly. God, I must have talked to him for months before we actually laid eyes on each other. In fact, we planned a dinner date sight unseen prior to that first meeting.

After that night out, he and I became inseparable. Either I was at his house or he was at mine. Everyone in my family knew him and he was a big hit with the folks. His parents knew me too, and I had been to their house several times, which was always a thrill for me because his French born mother was a phenomenal cook. We did everything together.  Shopping at the mall, meeting for coffee, movies, dinner, and weekends in Vegas. He was even my date to my cousin's wedding in New York. I absolutely love Alan.

Then the three of us became good friends. In addition to hanging out separately, we often went out to dinner together and always accompanied each other to Westin events or parties. We had the best fun and more laughs than seemed humanly possible. We shared details of our lives, which often included dating war stories. Sometimes, those stories became legendary.

Although they dubbed me Puta del Mundo (translation: slut of the world), it was more because I talked a big game and flirted with every single cute boy in the place.  I wasn't actually a slut. Greg was the actual slut. In fact, if there were a slut hierarchy, Greg would be in the very top ranks, I would be somewhere in the middle, and Alan would be waaaaaay down on the bottom, beneath the nuns. He was positively angelic. Not that he didn't have crushes and lust after the same boys Greg and I did, he just never did anything about it.

Two stories follow, the one about the wallet and the one about the AM/PM convenience store.  I'll tell you that one first.

The AM/PM was a chain of convenience stores in our town. They were everywhere, like 7-11. One night, while out with a guy I was totally crushing on, we stopped there for something to drink. We went in, got a couple of sodas and sat in the car in the AM/PM parking lot talking (seriously). One thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were totally making out. Oblivious to the comings and goings of cars around us, we continued on with our thing. It never went further than kissing, but boy was it some serious kissing. I'm sure we were a spectacle.

After that evening, I shared the story with Greg and Alan. They got a real kick out of it, and both of them thought I wasn't telling the truth. They were convinced I had sex. In the car. In a parking lot. That's so not my style. I'm not a backseat sort of chick, no matter how hot the guy is. I prefer the front seat. Badum-bum.  OK, seriously, I'm just kidding. No sex took place.

A few days later, I received a phone call from a guy who said he wanted to speak to me about the night I was in the AM/PM parking lot.  He had a Middle Eastern accent.  He said after viewing their surveillance tapes, I had some explaining to do. First, I had no idea what he was talking about, thinking "AM/PM? When the hell was I there??"

He then eluded to the "activity" that was taking place in the car and I was all, "oohhhhhh". I suddenly knew exactly what he was talking about. He babbled on about some policies they had, what could take place on their property, how people complained to the store manager. I was mortified.

He continued talking until he started to laugh. I was confused. He tried to continue telling me about how I had a lot of explaining to do, but he couldn't contain his laughter. I became suspicious at the same time he broke character, dropping the accent he was using and finally admitting who he really was. It was Greg. Holy shit, I about peed my pants. After I knew I hadn't been the subject of numerous complaints about "lewd behavior" in the parking lot, I couldn't stop laughing.  That was such a Greg thing to do.

That incident spurred an ongoing joke about whether or not our respective dates were going to end with a trip to the AM/PM. To this day, I can't go in one of those stores without thinking about that night.

The wallet story is similar in its memorableness.

One night, Alan and I were going to dinner and Greg and his date were supposed to meet us. He never showed up and didn't answer his phone when we tried to reach him. The next day we found out that Greg and his date were on their way to the restaurant when Greg realized that he didn't have his wallet. So they had to turn around and go back to his apartment to get it. Once inside, one thing led to another and well, they never left the apartment. Greg blew off our dinner date for some cute, young thing.

After that night, "losing the wallet" became a euphemism for having sex. Whenever someone went on a date, the question afterward was always, "Did you lose the wallet?" Or, if you were hoping there would be a little action, you'd say something along the lines of, "I hope I have a chance to look for the wallet tonight." Or, plain old "I lost the wallet." No further explanation needed.

Which brings me to a note that Greg recently found among some old papers.  It was from Alan, referencing both of the stories above:
It says, "Greggie, I never found the wallet. I guess maybe I should've went to the AM/PM to see if it was there. A"   
Apparently, the nun finally had a date, but didn't get any action. He seems to think he might have had better luck at the AM/PM.

I doubt it. He'd be the only one of the three of us to go there and actually leave with a 32 oz. soda and a bag of Doritos.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Bridge Over Troubled Roadway
If Only The Streets Were Truly Paved With Gold
She Reigns Supreme
A Match Made In Heaven
Caped Crusaders

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