The Sonny’s Carwash Head Bobbing Incident
I’ve been lying to myself and others every time I have said that I never found a blond gentleman attractive. Apparently, I forgot about Joe. I met Joe in 6th grade at McNichol Middle school, in PE class, which is the worst place for someone like me to make a first impression. I stood there, in black shorts and a black and gold shirt in the gravy air of South Florida, listening to the coach talk about timing us while we ran around the track once. Joe stood across from me in the smelly circle of pre-teens forcibly gathered around a gruff, old-seeming man with the coach version of our uniforms. The sun hit Joe’s hair just the right way to show that it was dirty blond and not basic light brown, as I’d originally thought when I first eye-balled everyone in the circle.
Joe didn’t do or say anything too impressive. He just had sort of a suburban Bo Duke vibe about him. It was 1982 and Dukes of Hazzard was one of my favorite shows, mostly because Bo was a polite doofus who was “fine” as we used to say before everyone started using “hot” as the go-to “that person makes my eyes sing” word.
Joe wasn’t in any of my other classes, just the one where I was sweaty, awkward, and likely to cry. I don’t think I ever really talked to him in school, but one time I ran into him on the weekend at Sonny’s Car Wash and I’m still embarrassed for eleven-year-old Lisa.
My mom barely had enough money to keep the electricity on at home, but every weekend we ran around Hollywood, FL paying other people to do stuff for us. We dropped our laundry off at City-Wide Fabric Care, went out to breakfast at Wag’s, and then, we usually stopped by Sonny’s Car Wash if it wasn’t “too fucking crowded.” During this time, Mom drove a blue Pontiac Sunbird. Mom had always made things “talk” by talking for them. So, Sunny, the Sunbird had a whole personality and she needed a bath because she liked to be pretty. I learned to make things talk and to this day, I still make animals talk; I’m sure my husband will put me in a home for this when I start believing they are really talking.
So, on one Saturday, after gulping down French Toast and Bacon, we got in line at Sonny’s. Once the carwash person checked off which wash we wanted, we got out of the car right as the person with the vacuum hose was getting in. We went inside and handed our ticket to a cashier and paid for Sunny’s bath. While we were waiting for our car, I turned around, away from my mom, to look around and Joe was standing RIGHTTHERE with his dad and brother.
Three Bo Duke looking guys! All the blood rushed to my face immediately. Shit! I was eleven, and out on a weekend day WITH MY POOR SINGLE MOM who was short and cursed a lot, and was not like normal moms, and who do I run into? Suburban Bo Duke and the Duke family, that’s who.
He said, “Hi” and I said hi, too, I think, but I could not hear it over my heartbeat. My mom started talking to his dad right away, laughing and saying embarrassing things, probably. I couldn’t hear what she was saying. At one point, his dad asked Joe and me if we went to school together, and I bobbed my head up and down for yes. And then, I couldn’t stop bobbing my head. The nervous energy took over and I just kept saying yes for the entire time we stood there making Saturday morning carwash conversation with my crush and his family. I wanted to disappear.
Finally, Sunny was driven out of the wash and the carwash people were wiping her windows and getting any remaining droplets of water off of her as though it would not rain in a few hours. I could not wait to get back into that car and I clenched every muscle in my body until we were successfully out of the carwash and heading south on 441.
“What was wrong with you back there?” my mom asked while she laughed as we came to a stop in the left turn lane.
“Nothing,” I said, looking away from her and staring out of Sunny’s bubbled window tint.
“You like him, don’t you? I thought I was going to have to put my hand on top of your head to stop it from going up and down. Your head was bobbing all over the place!” She laughed and mimicked me.
I never mentioned this event to Joe at school and he didn’t bring it up. We went back to not talking to each other, as usual. My mom, however, told this story ALL. THE.TIME. “She just kept bobbing her head! I wanted to grab it and hold it still!” And she would grab my head as she told the story each and every time.
