I have told you all before about Bob. Growing up we spent most of our summers together constantly trying to come up with “The Greatest Game Ever Invented by Kids”.
The friendship started for the same reason that all friendships begin when we’re younger. We were neighbors. Our divorced fathers lived across the street from each other and during the summer we both spent the majority of our time with our old men. Hence the friendship.
Now, the reason the friendship lasted was because of our love for two things; going to the movies and causing trouble. This story is about the latter.
Our friendship peaked when I was 13. Bob was about 11. After that his father moved so he stopped coming to town and as I got older we kind of went our separate ways.
Anyway, as teenagers, or in Bob’s case, on the cusp of being a teenager, we possessed dirty, curious minds. Whenever we found something in a book or on TV that was even remotely sexually related we’d share it with the other one. ( a joke, a new word, a movie that was supposedly going to have full frontal female nudity)
In this sense, one of our favorite things to do was to sit in Bob’s kitchen and talk dirty in front of his deaf old grandma. She was also kind of clueless, which helped out immeasurably.
Our favorite little game to play was called “The Party Game” where we would talk about all the parties we were going to. Thing was, the people throwing these “parties” had names that could be classified as….saucy.
Here’s a typical conversation Bob and I would have in the presence of his deaf old grandma.
ME: So are you going to MIKE HUNT’S party next week?
BOB: Probably. HARRY BUSH said his parties are usually great.
ME: Really? Because JACK HOFF said they usually suck.
BOB: No, he only says that because he prefers parties at the beach house owned by Phil McKrakin.
ME: Well, good, it should be fun, especially if that new foreign exchange student Chu mei is there.
So yeah, that was a typical convo and only once did Bob’s grandma give any indication that she was listening when she said, “Wow, you guys sure go to a lot of parties.”
Just to be fair, we did try to the conversation once in my kitchen, in front of my Grandfather, who was always smoking a cig, drinking a beer and looking out the window.
Big mistake.
As soon as I mentioned to Bob that we were both invited to that new Italian restaurant owned by Harry Ballsonya, Bob was sent home and I was sent to my room.
When it came to sexual innuendo, nothing got past grampy.
