Sheila was my girlfriend for about a minute in 1958. We went out after I broke up with my girlfriend of four years.
Sheila was a wonderful, funny and completely lovable girl. She had an exotic air about her, and I was smitten for a bit. This is not a “kiss and tell” story, and given the late 50’s, kissing would be all I could tell about! Besides, Sheila will probably see this story sooner or later and I don’t want the lawsuit.
Sheila was one (and still is) of Lynda’s best friends, and I married Lynda eventually. My friend Ted and I would go and visit Sheila often, as she lived in the suburbs in what seemed at the time a giant house with speakers in the ceilings. She would put on a Martin Denny record and birds would chirp from the ceiling, and we were won over by the birds!
This story, however, has nothing to do with out “relationship” directly, but is about the aftermath of it in her life.
Sheila’s parents liked me, I think. At least I know her mother did. Her father was a bit cool on boys in general. But, I was Jewish and presentable, and had a vehicle. This made me “eligible” for their daughter, I guess.
Six months to a year after I stopped seeing Sheila, I was home alone on a Saturday night. I knew Sheila had been going out with a guy (I can’t remember his name) who was not her parents delight, mainly, I imagine, because he wasn’t Jewish, a big No No in those days, and perhaps even now. But sitting around, I thought I’d give Sheila a call for the hell of it.
Her mother answered the phone and I greeted her, and she asked if anything was wrong. I was confused, this response made no sense. I said no, “can I speak with Sheila please?” The silence that followed was deafening!
Sheila, who was sneaking out with Mr. Wrong, had said she was going to a party at my house. What were the odds I’d ever call?
Sheila was a wonderful, funny and completely lovable girl. She had an exotic air about her, and I was smitten for a bit. This is not a “kiss and tell” story, and given the late 50’s, kissing would be all I could tell about! Besides, Sheila will probably see this story sooner or later and I don’t want the lawsuit.
Sheila was one (and still is) of Lynda’s best friends, and I married Lynda eventually. My friend Ted and I would go and visit Sheila often, as she lived in the suburbs in what seemed at the time a giant house with speakers in the ceilings. She would put on a Martin Denny record and birds would chirp from the ceiling, and we were won over by the birds!
This story, however, has nothing to do with out “relationship” directly, but is about the aftermath of it in her life.
Sheila’s parents liked me, I think. At least I know her mother did. Her father was a bit cool on boys in general. But, I was Jewish and presentable, and had a vehicle. This made me “eligible” for their daughter, I guess.
Six months to a year after I stopped seeing Sheila, I was home alone on a Saturday night. I knew Sheila had been going out with a guy (I can’t remember his name) who was not her parents delight, mainly, I imagine, because he wasn’t Jewish, a big No No in those days, and perhaps even now. But sitting around, I thought I’d give Sheila a call for the hell of it.
Her mother answered the phone and I greeted her, and she asked if anything was wrong. I was confused, this response made no sense. I said no, “can I speak with Sheila please?” The silence that followed was deafening!
Sheila, who was sneaking out with Mr. Wrong, had said she was going to a party at my house. What were the odds I’d ever call?
No comments:
Post a Comment