Driving lessons are a lot like life. You can learn a great deal about how to drive by watching the mistakes of others. However, the mistakes you make on your own are the ones that leave the greatest impressions. Before I had a driver’s license, I learned about cruising for girls. The girls who wanted to be picked up weren't necessarily the ones you wanted to find. This is one of those stories.
CM was a cute little Catholic girl, growing up in a Mormon community. We were classmates in the eighth grade at Rigby Junior High School. Her father, DM, was the president of the Idaho First National Bank in Rigby. I always thought CM was quiet and reserved until the day I took my father’s Willys Jeep for a little joy ride — without permission. My plan was to drive around the junior high school and return home before being discovered. Maybe some girls would see me driving in the Jeep and think I was cool. What luck! I saw CM and some of her friends standing on the road in front of the school. When I stopped, they jumped in, thinking they were going for a ride. I figured I could take these girls home and show off my driving skills simultaneously. Calculating the risks, I estimated that extending my drive a few blocks would only slightly increase my chances of being discovered. At that time, Rigby had a built-in mother’s early-warning surveillance system. If you were spotted doing something that did not meet community approval, your mother would know about it before you got home. Sometimes you were spotted — sometimes you were not. It was a measured risk.
The Jeep had a three-speed transmission with a gear shift on the floor. With two doors, the bucket seats had to be pulled forward in order to get into the back seat. After her friends got in, CM jumped into the front passenger seat. The joy ride was over almost before it began. CM told me she wanted to drive. When I told her no, she put her foot over the transmission tunnel and stood up — on the gas pedal. Neither of us had a driver’s license. Willys Jeeps are not known for speed, but they sure do lurch. We didn’t get very far bouncing down the road before I pushed down on the clutch pedal and turned the key off. CM just sat there with a surprised, pouting stare on her face. The girls in the back seat were animated and all seemed to be talking at once. For me, this ride was over. I had to get these girls out of the Jeep before someone saw me.
CM might as well have been glued to the front seat. The chattering girls in the back were now nervous with all the bouncing around and, unlike CM, seemed to understand my request that they get out. As I opened the door, stood up, and pulled my seat forward for their exit, CM let herself out and marched away without a word. I managed to quietly drive behind the junior high school, then slowly back down the block to our home where I parked the Jeep in the garage. As far as I could tell no one would know any of this ever happened.
That was the best time I ever had kicking a bunch of cute girls out of my car and making them walk home. That was also my first and last lesson on cruising for girls. I learned that some girls, like CM, are really cute — until they aren’t.
Before the next school year, DM was promoted and moved his family to Idaho Falls. In 1980, when I returned to Idaho Falls, he was my banker. We never spoke of CM. In my mind, she found someone who liked her in his front seat more than I had. I suspect that she wasn’t much of a liability by then and that she became a wonderful adult — once she figured out that only one person at a time should drive the car.
Ever vigilant,
RT
Comments