Blowin' In The Wind (Part I)

How long will a woman wait for one man? That is a question I pondered yesterday when I happened to run into a young lady that I was once quite smitten with... we met when I was barely 20 years old.

I was home from college and I kept seeing this girl in tight jeans and a rather loose-fitting halter top riding around in these new cars. I saw her early in the morning in a car, later on in the afternoon in another car, and then again that night in a hooptie (which I later learned was her car). Later on that same night, I went to a block party. The music was flowing... "Let's dance, let's dance to the drummers beat...", "I said hotel... motel... Holiday Inn....", "These are the breaks...", and so on. The smell of barbecue was in the air and people were dancing all over the streets. The aroma of fresh "killer" (marijuana) was everywhere and guys had their "forties" in paper bags. Then, I noticed the same girl in the cars sitting by herself so, I sat next to her and started a conversation. I talked about some non-sense and got her to laugh and then, I introduced myself and got her name. I offered to get her a plate of food and some Kool-Aid (unfortunately, it wasn't my Mom's Kool-Aid) and then, we sat and talked some more.

I told her that I was home from college for the summer and that I was working for the Department of Recreation up in North Philly. Of course, I made it sound more important than it really was... what I was actually doing was cleaning the swimming pool in the local playground. My check was from the Department of Recreation so, I guess I wasn't exactly lying... I just left the specifics of what I actually did out of the conversation and since we were in West Philly, there was no chance of her or anybody she knew actually running into me. I also had another job... scooping ice cream at a parlor in University City on the weekends for a few hours. I didn't bother to mention that job at all. She had been in college too but, had dropped out because she got pregnant and had a baby. She was working for a temp agency in town and did secretarial work at a lot of interesting places... the electric company, the gas company, (the Department of Recreation), etc.

We were together until well after midnight... we laughed, talked, ate, and we even danced together a few times. I asked for her phone number and she wrote it down for me on a piece of paper (this was before cell phones and text messaging). I gave her my phone number and walked her to her car. I couldn't help but notice that it didn't look half as new or as good as the first two cars I had seen her in previously so, I asked her about the cars. She said, "Oh, those aren't my cars. They're (I'll call him) Tyrone's... he works at the auto repair place on 59th Street and he lets me drive them once he finishes the work on them and before the owners come to pick them up." (I made a mental note that if and when I ever got a car, never to take it to Tyrone's shop.) I asked, "Is Tyrone your man?" She looked at the ground and said, "Well, not exactly. We have an understanding. He's my son's father but, we 'kinda' are together but, we aren't." I asked her what she meant by that and she said, "You see, Tyrone is married."

She and Tyrone started seeing each other in high school. He would drive up to her college and stay with her on the weekends in the dorms. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped coming. She didn't see him for about a year and, during that time, she had his son. Tyrone was busy too... busy marrying someone else! Tyrone ran into her again after she dropped out of college and told her that, although he was now married with a child on the way, he felt as though he may have made a mistake and that she was his one true love. "You believed that?", I asked. She looked at me and said, "I don't know what to believe. I see him sometimes and then, sometimes I don't see him for months. I can't say that he's my man but, then again, we do have a connection."

Now, here is one of those times when I should have just said, "Okay, it was nice meeting you and bounced. But o-h-h no, not me... I said, "I'd like to meet your little boy and then maybe, if you
wouldn't mind, I'd like to see you again... maybe even take you out." This would prove to be a BIG mistake!

To be continued...