Around 1950, while living in Simons, my older sister, Rachel, had a boyfriend, Ramon. When Ramon would come over in the evenings to see her, he had to come inside the house because big sister was not allowed to go outside with him. Ramon drove a 1939 Chevy that didn't have a key; he would just hot-wire it to get it running.
So as soon as Ramon would walk inside the house, I would walk out the back door, and jump in Ramon's '39 Chevy, hot-wire it and go pick up my friends and go joy-riding around the brickyard. I knew when Ramon would be leaving, so I would park the '39 back in front of the house 15-20 minutes before Ramon would leave. Then, after saying goodbye to Rachel, Ramon would hot-wire the Chevy, and as he was ready to leave, he would look at the gas gauge and go nuts "they stole my f*^#kin' gas again!"...
No comments:
Post a Comment