Edited by Barney R. Messed with by me. All errors are mine.

Author’s note: All references to INS (as it was called in the seventies) are from my experience with a Chilean girlfriend I had in college. Also I have changed the military experiences because the first rendition was not time correct.

What ‘they’ say about the third time being the charm certainly applied to me.

Before I go too far, let me introduce myself. I am Calbert (after mom’s dad) Randal Emerson, (Cal) I am 52 years old, and married. I have been married for more than 25 years, but to my current wife and love of my life Jean (nee Cunningham) for twenty years. We have two kids, Jerimy 14, and Elizabet 16. We are probably in the upper middle class financially.

My story starts when I was in high school. My family was poor, four kids, and dad working three jobs to take care of us. He was not my biggest supporter, I was a nerd, not a jock, so when there was extra money, my sisters got it. They would rush up to their room and put it in a pool and split it four ways, they loved me and knew that the old son of a bitch was wrong in his actions.

I had a part time job. I was a pearl diver¹ in a local restaurant afterschool and all day Saturday. My money covered my school books, ² my car insurance, and extra clothes other than jeans and shirts. I had been given my car by my maternal grandfather because he got a new one.

¹pearl diver – a derogatory name for a restaurant dishwasher. I embraced the term, because I had a job and income from the time I was 16.

²Purchasing books and supplies was normal when I went to school. The only kids who didn’t have to buy their books were the really poor families. I bought used books, but I bought my books.

At that time, ‘going steady’ was common for school kids, and considered normal. It was not a very common practice for someone to poach your steady, but as hormones often overrode brains it happened, and there were a fair number of fights over the poaching. I had never been poached because I never went steady. My dating a girl never lasted that long.

I was a junior and 17, almost 18, when I had my first serious crush. I had dated several different girls since I was 15, but none lasted beyond four dates. My crush’s name was Gena Simonati, and she had a very public breakup with the guy she had been going steady with for most of two school years. I was in several classes with her and we were both in the drama club.

We had a sort of friendship, she would talk to me and I tried not to drool when I was talking to her. I was seriously in lust with her. During one of our talks, her boyfriend came up and made a big deal of her talking to the ‘nerd’ when she was his steady. Gena took great exception to his attitude and told him she would ‘talk’ to anyone she chose, and if he didn’t like it his ring could always be returned. That shut him up for a few weeks.

Then about a month later Gena was talking to another boy in the hallway after the school day was over, and the boyfriend roughly grabbed her arm and started to say something.

I say started to say, because in less time than it takes to read this, ex-boyfriend was on the ground nursing a bruised sternum and a very abused crotch. As Gena seemed to think that wasn’t enough, she pinched his nose until he opened his mouth and she shoved his class ring in the open cavity.

This entire episode was witnessed by one of the vice principals and ex-boyfriend was suspended for three days and given in house detention³ for 15 school days. Gena got a written reprimand for ‘over aggressive reactions’

³in house detention was the high schools phrase for staying after school.

I asked Gena if she had a way home now that she couldn’t ride with sore nuts (they might have been numb by that time) and the school bus she would have ridden in was gone. I told her I would be glad to drop her off at home.

She accepted my offer, and I ended up giving her rides to and from school for most of the school year. The rides led to talks, and as Gena was now considered a dangerous woman to date if you weren’t serious, it got to where she desperately asked me to take her to a school dance. I agreed and we set it up. Lucky for me, a poor kid with a part-time job who needed to pay for my car insurance, books, and clothes, as well as any after school activities, this dance was not any special one that needed anything besides school clothes to wear.

When I showed up at her house, I got a rude surprise, the first words Gena said was “Where are you taking me to dinner?”

I had neither the money, the inclination, nor the plan to take someone to dinner when that question was put in front of me. I said “I am not taking you to dinner, it is 7:30, the dance starts at 8:00 and while it may not be fashionable, I am never late if I can avoid it. If you wanted to go to dinner, I would have needed to be informed a least two weeks ahead of time so I could budget for it. If you haven’t eaten, I will leave, and you can go eat.”

The look I got was pure venom. Before she could say anything, I added, “Obviously, this date is over. Call me tomorrow if you need me to pick you up for school Monday, if I don’t get the call, you need to take the bus because I won’t come this way without the call.” I turned and walked away.

No call, but she got her revenge, it seems her father was a major investor in the restaurant, so Monday I was fired. I was mad, but not totally mad at my immediate boss, because he explained the reason.

She didn’t ride with me for about three weeks, and one very rainy Friday, she missed her bus and as she was ‘persona non grata’ to the guys, and most of the girls did not have cars, she started walking home. I happened to be driving by on my way to my new job, I spotted her. I pulled over and offered her a ride. She was soaked, cold, and upset, but she accepted. I drove by my job first and explained that I would not be my usual half hour early, but right on time.

I took Gena to her home, and when she left, no thank you, no see you later, no go to hell, nothing. I wasn’t surprised. My lust had turned to indifference.

Surprise, surprise, I had a man looking for me at my new job Saturday morning. It was Gena’s father. He wanted to know what I did to make his daughter cry last night.

“Well, let’s see, I saw a girl; one who had her father get me fired from my last job because I couldn’t afford to take her to an unplanned dinner before a dance that she asked me to take her to; walking in a downpour and I took her home.

“She did not say a single word to me during the ride or after I opened the door to let her out of my car, no thank you, no see you later, no go to hell, nothing.” I continued, “This is the girl that for almost three months I was driving out of my way to and from school to give her transport so she wouldn’t have to ride a school bus. I did nothing, and after what you did to me, if I hadn’t been taught manners at the end of a leather belt, we would not be standing here talking. I would have walked away.

“Let me ask you a question, are you going to get me fired from this job too?”

He had the decency to hang his head as he silently walked away.

Sunday afternoon, after Sunday dinner at home, there was a knock on the door at our house. My dad answered and because he did not know who was at the door asked who they were and what they wanted.

Two of my sisters were sitting on the couch across the room. I was in a chair near the door, and could hear everything. So could my sisters.

It was Gena and her father Gino, Her father asked to speak to me with my parents’ permission. My dad, always the diplomat said loud enough for the county next to ours to hear, “What has the little asshole done now?”

Gino and Gena were both shocked and embarrassed at his comment. Gino sputtered and then with some heat said, “He has been a complete gentleman, and we are here to apologize to him for being as you call it, assholes. My little ‘Italian Princess’ lied to me in order to get your son fired from one of my businesses, and then even though he knew I had done that and that Gena had instigated it he gave her a ride home last Friday after she started walking in that pouring rain. The ‘Princess’ never said a word of thanks and when she came in the house cried for hours and would only say that the Cal was the reason.”

Then to further compound our foolishness, I confronted your son at his work Saturday. I learned a lot. Not only the truth about the broken date, but that while Cal is not in the economic status of my family, he is a gentleman and a good person. Saying that, he showed backbone and told me off in a reasoned but cutting way. We are both here to apologize to him.”

Well dear old dad slammed the door in their face and gave me hell for the rest of the day. He told me if it wasn’t that I had my own car and paid my insurance, he would take it away from me.

I handed him the car keys, and the house key. I went upstairs to my room and packed everything that I had paid for into a duffle bag and walked downstairs and as I passed my father said, “Burn the car for all I care, I am leaving, and as I am 18 now, I am going down to the recruiting offices and join the army. I will finish school there. I will never come in this house if you are here again. I will write my mother and my sisters as soon as I am able. I no longer consider myself your son, especially as you told those people your pet name for me.”

Then I walked out the door. I actually had enough credits and all the required school subjects finished. I could graduate immediately. I had planned to at the end of this school year anyway.

I had enough money to rent a motel room until Monday. That morning I went to school and asked to talk the principal. I explained that I desired to get my diploma, and join the army. Mr. Robinson, the principal, checked my records, made a few calls, and I graduated.

I was at the recruiter’s office before 10:30 that morning, I signed and he arranged to get me to a transit barracks until transport could be arranged for me to basic training.

I thrived in basic, it seems that I liked and accepted reasoned, if loud, discipline, and not having it beaten into me. At the end of the cycle, I was sent to language school as a PFC. I had made honor recruit.