Tuesday, March 13, 2012

80s Flashback: IROC Z, Pegged Jeans, and Back Seat Love

What you're about to see is going to come across sort of classist, okay a lot classist. You've been warned.

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Me: Did you see that hair?

*****: Whose hair?

Me: ____'s. Check her Facebook album.

*****: You are terrible.

Me: You know what I'm talking about, too. She lost her virginity in the back of some guy's Trans Am after a 6 pack of Old Milwaukee and a bottle of Strawberry Hill. Bet on it.

*****: That looks like a recent picture.

Me: I bet the guy still has the Trans Am too.

These conversations don't happen in a vacuum. There is always some sort of stimuli that causes me to stop short and say, "Well, that's oddly familiar." It's things like what I saw today at lunch that bring out the inner snob in me.

Picture it... Sioux Falls 2012 (I miss Estelle)... Subway parking lot: 

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I swear I did a double take. The car was familiar... mid-80s IROC Z. Most girls where I grew up would recognize it immediately and sort of swoon for it's owner. Blonde, sporty (like the car), cute, trim, cocky... oh he had it all. He was older than us, but that never stops a girl from getting starry eyed!

Just seeing the car took me back a couple of decades and I smiled. When I saw the owner get out of the car my smile got infinitely bigger. He was tall-ish, dirty blonde (emphasis on the dirty), balding, beer gut, and wearing, what I approximate to be, a mid-80s acid washed jean jacket. No, it wasn't the guy I remember from my junior high days, but I am pretty sure they are cosmically related.

Lucky me, the only open parking spot was next to that sex machine car. As the last two entrants, we stood next to each other in line to order our lunch. He looked back at me and smiled, gave me the once over, let his eyes settle on my boobs for a bit longer than acceptable (damn the nice weather), and smiled again... this time with a bigger creep factor. That was when I noticed what I can only assume was years of drug use playing havoc with his pearly... grays. My eyes dropped to his ankles. I had to check for pegged jeans and deck shoes. I didn't look, but I bet he was wearing Pepe Jeans. I'm also willing to bet he's had that car since the 80s and there is at least one girl with 80s hair looking for her baby daddy.

I almost seem like a pretty nice person until you actually get to know me. If you stick around to find out what I'm all about, and we still somehow manage to become friends it's probably because I said some things you wouldn't have said yourself (but you know you were thinking it). Of course, I usually only say it to you. Otherwise it would just be rude.



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