Is that—-No ! It can’t be!
If you’ve been reading along, I mentioned the girl thrown out of her house. I think that happened around fourth grade. Now–close your eyes and imagine this: you’re riding your bike down the street, in your own little juvenile world and you see colored things that look like rags strewn on the lawn and bushes.
So you stop. That pink thing–what the hell is that? It is nothing you’ve ever seen before. Open it up; it has straps. And these shapes that kind of form a shape like—
Ho-lee shit! This must be a bra! I drop it like I was holding syphilitic wasps. Look around–slowly. Whew. No one sees me.
So that pink and blue stuff must be………………yep, underwear. Amazingly, I am able to look at other things and see jeans, blouses, heels laying around luridly.
Time to ‘git while the git’n’s good’. Someone will call me the village pervert. I finish the jigsaw as I ride. Okay, that house had ‘That’ Girl (no, not Marlo, her name was Angie IIRC). And there was a rumor that Angie was dating a guy at least 7 years older. And the dad was a hot headed guy, kind of like a Junior Varsity version of my father.
So that means……………..
Hey guys, Angie’s underwear is on the lawn. You never saw boys ride so fast in your life. “I dare you to pick up those panties.” “No way” ” I dare you to put her bra over Kevin’s face.” You get the drift.
I believe the mother came out and boxed up all the clothes so the neighborhood wouldn’t have a circus attraction on the lawn.
All I heard after that was she moved in with the boyfriend and finished school. I hope she made the right choice.