WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE PROBLEM, BOYS?
WOO-WEE! We're having some fun now. About eight of us have piled into my red hand painted 1947 Chevy school bus that I've taken all of the seats out of and have done up the interior in hippie modern, which means plenty of soft carpets, mattresses and pillows. After taking Le Drugs de Jour of grass, home-brew and the ever popular always fun Quaaludes, we are highballing down the highway looking for adventure in whatever comes our way.
We’ve just finished taking hot showers at the State Park. There's only a cold creek at my place. Good enough for the body but nothing beats a hot shower for washing the hair. I bought a years pass to the park for only $10 so we all go once or twice a week. They only have two showers there. One marked Men, the other Women, but we don't pay any attention to the signs. We just divide up into two groups then cram ourselves into the stalls all at once and lather up. Don't drop the soap!
Now here's a difference between men and women. When a man comes in the Men’s side and sees four or five nude people in the shower, some of whom are young pretty girls, generally he'll just hang around waiting for a glimpse of exposed female flesh. A woman though, will take one look at what is going on and either leaves quickly or says something like, "What are you men doing in here? This is the Ladies room!" I'll answer, "Sorry Mam, but the Men's is full." After that they always leave.
Anyway, we're clean now and are back in the bus cruising with some tunes on the box looking for our next victim. We're on a narrow country road and the mailboxes are real close to the edge of the blacktop. The bus has big thick Detroit steel bumpers, and if you just barely graze one of them flimsy little mailboxes, then BAM! Them suckers are history. We all think this is pretty hilarious laughing like hell every time I nail one.
But oh, oh! A crises looms on the horizon. We're almost out of gas. I yell at everyone who has some cash to cough it up or it's back to the shack. Someone collects about $4 because no one wants to go back just yet and besides, the Ludes make you generous. The bus has only a 12 gallon tank and since gas is 25 cents a gallon, this is plenty of money. Might even have enough left over to buy a quart or two of beer. We head for the nearest ville, hunting the wily mailbox on the way. BAM! Gotcha!
We cruz into a little town that’s only two blocks long but it has a gas station at both ends. I pull up to the nearest pump and notice at the pump next to me there’s a gray pick up truck with it's hood up and two old farmers and a mechanic looking under it. I glance back behind me at all the freeks in various stages of undress and say, "We're in town now, so be good!" They all promise me they will be.
Even though I’m stoned to the eyeballs I get out then tell the mechanic I need some gas and I'll pump it myself seeing as he's busy. Okay, grab the handle, uncap the tank, insert the nozzle, turn on the pump and squeeze. Ahhh…
Just then I look up and see Cheri getting off the bus. And all she's got on are a pair of sheer pink bikini panties that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. Cheri’s a cute little 16 year old run away from Portland who looks 25 mainly because she sports a genuine pair of 44's. She's real proud of them too. She tells almost everyone about there size and has been even known to carry a tape measure. If anyone questions the fact of are they really 44's, why she'll just whip that tape out, wrap it around her back and across her boobs, take a deep breath then proudly display the tape; a full 44 inches. To show them off she always wears really tight T-shirts. One she’s even cut two small holes in where her pert little nipples are so they can peek out at the world. Something that’s real cute back in San Francisco but out here in the sticks it only shocks the hicks. And she's off the bus! Topless and almost bottomless! In town! And all I can do is watch.
She walks over to the gray pick up, sticks those large lovely young naked 44's with a pink nipple on each one over the fender right into the engine compartment and straight into the faces of the farmers.
She smiles pleasantly at them saying, "What seems to be the problem, boys?"
The farmers can only gape. They can only stare at those big bare beautiful boobies and think of nothing to say. In a few seconds the mechanic since he's younger recovers quickly and looking Cheri straight in the titties says, "Well Mam, we think it's the carburetor."
This satisfies Cheri who tells them, "Well I hope you can fix it. See ya."
One of the farmers has finally found his voice saying, "Thank you Mam."
Cheri turns and saunters back to the bus with the farmers, the mechanics and my eyes all on her saucily swaying barely covered sweet young ass. As she gets to the door she turns, smiles and giving us a little wave, she steps aboard the bus.
I turn off the pump, replace the nozzle, cap the tank, and give the mechanic all the money I have saying, "Thanks, man."
I get on the bus and get the hell out of town as fast as I can.
Everybody, including yours truly, is laughing their asses off. Although I am a little pissed off at Cheri. It ain't like it'd be easy to hide a big red school bus full of stoned and nekked freeks rolling down an almost empty country road if someone did decide to call the cops. I holler at them to get dressed. They tell me to relax. Lighten up, here man, have another Lude, smoke a joint. The day is still young and we have all those vicious mailboxes to hunt and kill making the world safe for democracy. In fact, there’s one right now. BAM! Victory is ours!
I saw the mechanic quite a few times after that and he never said a word to me about the titty incident, but he would always smile and give me excellent service.