5/11/05---December 1983---oh what a night

So it was the month between Thanksgiving & Christmas of 1983 when I was assigned to the TRU in Hollywood as a manager trainee.  This would of course end up being a fateful move on my part, as I would eventually meet my first two wives there as well as some of the people who would play a fairly significant role in my life over the next 15 years.
One of the things that I was told right from the start was.....do not fraternize with the employees (famous last words).  I was put in the operations section, which meant that I worked in the service area doing refunds, special orders and daily tallies from each registar in the store.  That may not sound bad, but during the Christmas season, TRU would have anywhere between 20 & 24 registers.....and the Christmas season, that one month.....probably accounted for more than 1/2 of the retail sales for TRU back in 1983.  So I was usually pretty busy, because one of my other jobs was to watch the cashiers, almost all of whom were seasonal, and to take the money out on an hourly basis.  I got to know the cashiers pretty well---one of them ended up being my first wife and my "lead" cashier ended up being my sister-in-law.....for a time at least.  Before I ended up hooking up with the former Mrs Me # 1....I was chasing another skirt though.  It was kind of a store secret.  It had to be.  I didn't want to get called onto the carpet about dating a store employee, but....c'mon!
Where else was I going to meet women for God's sake?  That....and....well....it was like a smorgasbord.  I used to joke that Hollywood, Florida is the unmarried mother capital of the world.  90% of the cashiers that worked for me were unmarried, had kids...and were looking.  And they didn't mind letting you know that they were looking either.
So, the Hollywood store was an interesting place to work.  It was a miniturized version of Peyton Place, because there were all sort of storylines going on.....some with the managers and some with the employees.  We had a great crew of managers, and by that I mean great people--not necessarily great managers.  Our merchandise manager quit like 2 days after I got there so the assistants on the sales floor were basically given the job of running the store...whether they were ready for the job or not.  Most of the heat fell on a great guy who's nickname was "Dirtbag"
(there's the kind of nickname you don't want).  He was ably assisted by a guy that we called "Eddie Munster"---mainly because he sort of looked like Eddie Munster.
Dirtbag didn't just call him Eddie Munster though.....he called him FUCKING Eddie Munster.  The guy would actually page him over the store intercom....

"Fucking Eddie Munster.....come to aisle 204 please.....Fucking Eddie Munster."

It was a riot.  Then there was Nancy B....our female merchandise assistant.  Nancy was sort of a free spirit, and used to come to work dressed a tad like Cindy Lauper.
Make that Cindy Lauper with a pack a day cigarette habit.  But she ended up being my best friend and closest confidant.  I think about her every once in awhile, along with the crazy crew that we had....and wonder what ever became of them.

Anyway, back to December of 1983......I was chasing a skirt, but no one else in the store knew about it.  Believe it or not....(brace yourself here).....I was being subtle and secretive about my business (a stunner to anyone who knows me).  One day Dirtbag comes up to and says that he wants to talk with me privately.  He tells me that he's been invited to an employee Christmas party and wants to know if I wanted to come with him.  I was still the new guy basically, so I was looking to fit in, so I said sure....no problemo.  I go over to the skirt and ask her if she's into going to the party.  She was up to it--plans were now made.  I would pick her up that night and we would meet Dirtbag at the party.

So I go home, get myself primped for the party and head over to the skirts house.
Now....before we go on....I need to fill in a couple of details.  My car....my beautiful 1967 Pontiac Firebird.....had been stolen a few months before that.  The police got my car back....but the sons of bitches who stole my car stole one of my bucket seats.  Specifically, my front seat.  So I'm driving here.....with a car that only has one front seat.  More importantly....I'm going to pick up MY DATE in a car that only has one front seat......EEEEEWWWWW.   Is that romantic or WHAT?  I pick her up and we head over to the party....which was being held at my future in-laws house.  Yep, it was the first time I met the family of the future Mrs Me # 2.
So I'm driving over to the party....talking to my date in the rearview mirror....(no, seriously) and we get there and walk inside.  And my lead cashier walks up and looks at me and my date and says....

"Carolyn Barber!  I forgot about Carolyn Barber!  That's who you've been after!"

She really was quite helpful, wasn't she?  Anyway, the party was lots of fun, with a lot of incredibly drunk young people---including two very unlikely ones.  Our TRU store had these two girls.....Tina & Suzette....who were Pentacostal.  These were not exactly the two people I had expected at the party.  They weren't just Pentacostal.  They were HARDCORE Pentacostal.  You know, long dresses, long hair with ribbons and no interest in alcohol or sex.  And yet...here they were.  At a party with TONS of drinking, slinky outfits and lots of loose morals.  Go figure.
Now, believe it or not, I was actually in pretty damn good shape back then, weighing in at.....ah, shit....I'm not even going to tell you because you wouldn't believe me.  Suffice to say, I was much lighter.  And, if I do say so myself, I was looking....uh....dead sexy baby.  So at one point....during the middle of this party, some song comes on that was popular at the time....and Suzette the Pentacostal comes running across the room--where I was standing with my date-for-the-night Carolyn and insists, in a more than just slightly slurred voice, that I had to dance with her that very moment.  Well, you know me....Mr. Nice Guy.....I sort of smiled weakly at Carolyn and walked over and began dancing with Suzette the Pentacostal.
I glanced back over at Carolyn, who was being a good sport and sort of laughing at me dancing with Suzette the Pentacostal.....and then I turned back to look at Suzette the Pentacostal---and suddenly realized that I was being kissed---by Suzette.  And I mean kissed the way that nice girls don't kiss.  Hard, wet and nasty.  It was everything that a nice Pentacostal boy could ever hope for from his date.  Except of course...I wasn't Pentacostal and Suzette wasn't my date.  Suffice to say the rest of the partygoers were enjoying the moment though.  Well....maybe not....ALL the partygoers.  I'm not real sure that Carolyn was impressed.  Because later that night, when I drove her home....her in the back seat, me in the front.....she said thanks for a fun night, gave me a quick peck--side of the mouth, approaching the cheek area---and was inside her house in a flash.

The next week, I began to focus on the woman who would become the former Mrs Me # 1.  Damn that Carolyn Barber!  Damn that Suzette the Pentacostal and her drunken, over eager tongue!  Think of what COULD have happened.  I could have ended up marrying Carolyn Barber, a perfectly nice looking blonde--and one without any babies by the way---and avoided the formers all together!
Such is fate and the cruel way it plays with our lives.

Later,
Jeff