Fuzzy Memories #19,843
It could have been any old Friday night, but it wasn't. It was that Friday night. We were ready. We were reborn at 9:38 p.m., ready to take on the world. Of course, in the end we only took on a small, insignificant portion of it but that didn't matter.
The first order of business upon exiting the door was deciding who would drive. Sometimes it was who we could hit up to buy us beer, but not that night. That night was a road trip night. Which meant buying a Penthouse and reading the forum letters aloud, but that's not important right now.
Now, this was back in the day when I had my '72 Riviera. More importantly, it was back when petrol was cheap enough that I could afford to fill the beast's tank every week on payday. That's not why I got picked to drive, I'm just saying. I don't remember why I ended up driving that night.
Our destination was Orlando, specifically the red light district of Orange Blossom Trail, or Oh Bee Tee. At that point, our collective knowlege of central Florida geography was that 528 went to some part of Orlando. So, get in Riviera, get on 528, drive far enough to think we're in "O-town", then find someone to get directions from. None of us were 18 yet, I don't think, so why we were headed for a street full of nudie bars we couldn't get into is anyone's guess. Probably we just wanted to see if there were any hookers around or something. Not that we'd have had the nerve to pick one up, let alone actually pay for any services.
But there we were, in the parking lot of a 7-11, looking for someone to ask directions from. We stumbled up on some businessy looking black guy. "Hey man, you know how to get to OBT?", one of us asked. "You be lookin' to get there fast, or you be lookin' to get there slow?" the dude answered. That line would become our catchphrase for the next several weeks.
You be lookin' to get there fast, or you be lookin' to get there slow? we would ask each other, sometimes as frequently as twice a second. Then we would laugh ourselves to exhaustion.
I don't remember if we ever actually made it to OBT.
The first order of business upon exiting the door was deciding who would drive. Sometimes it was who we could hit up to buy us beer, but not that night. That night was a road trip night. Which meant buying a Penthouse and reading the forum letters aloud, but that's not important right now.
Now, this was back in the day when I had my '72 Riviera. More importantly, it was back when petrol was cheap enough that I could afford to fill the beast's tank every week on payday. That's not why I got picked to drive, I'm just saying. I don't remember why I ended up driving that night.
Our destination was Orlando, specifically the red light district of Orange Blossom Trail, or Oh Bee Tee. At that point, our collective knowlege of central Florida geography was that 528 went to some part of Orlando. So, get in Riviera, get on 528, drive far enough to think we're in "O-town", then find someone to get directions from. None of us were 18 yet, I don't think, so why we were headed for a street full of nudie bars we couldn't get into is anyone's guess. Probably we just wanted to see if there were any hookers around or something. Not that we'd have had the nerve to pick one up, let alone actually pay for any services.
But there we were, in the parking lot of a 7-11, looking for someone to ask directions from. We stumbled up on some businessy looking black guy. "Hey man, you know how to get to OBT?", one of us asked. "You be lookin' to get there fast, or you be lookin' to get there slow?" the dude answered. That line would become our catchphrase for the next several weeks.
You be lookin' to get there fast, or you be lookin' to get there slow? we would ask each other, sometimes as frequently as twice a second. Then we would laugh ourselves to exhaustion.
I don't remember if we ever actually made it to OBT.