sometimes i get these random flashbacks. not memory. vibe.

it will race me back decades to when i was sharing a bedroom, imagine that, with a guy when i was in junior college.

and in one sense it reminds me how far ive come (i now share a room with a girl, imagine that) but how almost exactly the same i am.

back then he had this drawer full of cassettes that he had made of dozens of albums. every doors record. every stones record. all the classics. all right in that drawer.

somehow i started dating a girl who wore red lipstick and used perfume. she was 21. i was 19. she made a big deal about our age gap.

one day we were making out to frank sinatra on the couch. the roommate was out. later in my diary i would rate it the second best make out session of my life. after a while we stopped and she said she had to drive back down to signal hill where she lived with her parents.

it’s a long drive so i said ok, later.

the next day she called and said she wanted to break up with me. i was all, but but

she was like, you are such a child.

i was all, i had frank sinatra on!

she said, you didn’t ask me to make love to you.

as stated, i was 18. untouched if you catch the drift. but my midwest upbringing had made that option… unthinkable. i literally hadnt thought it would be possible. this girl was amazing. i was happy to kiss her.

she said, i cant have a boyfriend i cant have sex with. and hung up.

i wore that diary out that night, i’ll tell ya.

it started

the first time we kissed was at a stop light at wilshire and bundy. i was driving us in my cadillac and out of the corner of my eye i could see her applying her lipstick

very slowly.

she said, oh man this lipstick tastes so good

we stopped at the stop light

she lunged at me and kissed me

doesn’t it?