Let’s take another look at the missing years between the previous posts. As promised there are many a tale to fill the gaps.
The story I will regale you with now, refers to an evening of gay frivolity, of no specific occasion other than fun. The timeline here falls somewhere between now and then and at a time that some unrestrained entertainment was well over due. As was usual, the promise of a calamitous affair was imminent and well planned by the Murphy’s of nature. Sit back and relax as I take you to an evening some time in the past.
It was at this time that my friend drove a very reliable deep maroon red VW Beetle, possibly a 1972, 1600 with back seat belts. You will recall I mentioned that she was a child-minder and this happened to be a pre-requisite of the position. The name of the car, as we all named our vehicles, and still do, escapes me, but this does not take away from the fact that she was well loved, and cared for!
It was decided that an evening spent at the night club of choice was deserved, not that it took very much to deserve this, and so, my friend and as many of the crowd that could force themselves into the tiny little red demon, made the necessary arrangements. Of which, I must add, included purchasing alcohol to be consumed before the time, as it was quite simply the more frugal thing to do! I will not make mention of the amount of alcohol that had been purchased and the number of people it was to satisfy, let’s suffice it to say that they were well lubricated by the time they had arrived at the designated venue.
At this point I feel forced to explain, that they were young and the consequences’ of drinking and driving were not their first priority. With youth comes irresponsibility, as well as a number of other selfish behaviors which I am pleased to report, are no longer an issue in any of our lives!
Let’s get back to the party at hand. So here they are, at least five or six of them, playing squash in her red VW Beetle, having just stepped out of the club to “whet the whistle” once again at the bar they sported in the car, which had been parked down some dingy alley, without street lights, so as to deflect detection from otherwise prying eyes.
Being well plastered, with music blaring as loud as it could blare from the 60watt speaker, they gaily took from the proffered bottle, containing the alcoholic beverage and mix, while entertaining each other with conversation and laughter. Then, while in mid-sentence, my friend felt somewhat uncomfortable as an uncharacteristically warm sensation seemed to settle in the area of her buttocks. Accompanied was a sensation of smoky atmosphere and the scent of burning fiber Though there were smokers in the group, none were permitted to smoke in the car, and so the idea of a dropped cigarette was not even a possibility. But as the warm sensation turned to hot and the atmosphere to stifling, it was time to take serious heed of what was happening beneath there buttocks!
As six bodies piled out of the tiny little manicured beetle, one could not escape the flames that billowed from the edges of the back seat! You see, what had happened was that last service my friend had taken the beetle to, had done all the necessary and a wonderful job, but had neglected to replace the battery cover, and somehow the wires had made contact with the flammable fibers of the under-seat and took light!
As with all these unbelievable stories, nothing was damaged beyond repair and no one experienced injury beyond that of a shattered ego!
A mad haters party indeed!