Repo Auto Center
Copyright© 2020 by Allyfutzus
Chapter 2: The Virgin in Detail’ing
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2: The Virgin in Detail’ing - 1965: Needing a job in Hawaii, being a haole from the mainland just arrived, dreaming of life in Paradise, a shy virgin nerd from the Pacific Northwest, I was out of my league being immersed in lusty tawdry old Honolulu walking distance from Waikiki. I would assume a very dirty job as a used car lot boy while attending private college run by the Catholics and visiting real life rubbing shoulders with the comings and goings of prostitutes frequenting my place of work.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual True Story Illustrated
On the cusp of Waikiki
This image roughly depicts reality back then, mid 1960’s. In the distance, beyond the stop light -> right, just above the ghostly old half sunk into earth 58 Ford pickup, was Ala Moana beach and you could park anytime, always room in much less populated Honolulu. The brand new Ala Moana shopping center was built down to the left on the boulevard and friend Dave had his car lot facing Ala Moana beach, his office the green building in the distance. That was a choice spot for sales, a short distance from old Waikiki, and he was the reason I got hooked up with the owners of Repo Auto Center.
I doubt I submitted a resume or had a real interview with the owners, the two of them, Wally, Dave. I don’t remember any whatsoever. It seemed as though they were only half serious about business and I would find out much more, soon, regarding their philosophy of life.
My new friend Dave told them I was a good guy and that was about it. Without any ceremony I met them and they acted like I had the job without much conversation. I was told what my duties would be and I was allowed to continue college courses, of course. I guessed I had the job although it was not set in stone or signed off or, well anything. I just had to show up before classes to make sure the “front Line” of cars all started.
Wally showed me the simple board with tiny hooks for the keys and they were supposed to be in order to follow along the car line from west to east. “You can’t sell a car if it won’t start,” was the simple philosophy. And then after classes I showed up again to start detailing cars, the part I liked. I did not ever once sell a car.
I wasn’t really sure they’d ever had a “lot boy” working for them before. I kind of got the impression they must have done the work themselves, perhaps Wally, he being the originator of car business. But he was quite adept at bossing, kind of a hard ass character, wanted to give me the impression I could easily be replaced. “Whatever,” I thought. He was apparently wanting to establish his pecking order, a sort of nervous need for authority.
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