It was ‘79, or it might’ve been ‘80. You still had to get up and turn records over, and Billy and me, we were down in the basement. On the old blue couch that was in the rec room.
Tonight? Billy asked.
I looked at the ceiling. Seemed quiet upstairs.
Yes, I said. I think we’re alone.
Just in case, we put on some music. Throbbing Gristle. “Hamburger Lady”.
Billy and me, we had waited so long. It was like a dam broke. Shirts on the floor, pants around our ankles.
All of a sudden the door burst open.
What the—what the hell are you doing?
Billy pulled up his blue jeans. Sir…he began.
Don’t “Sir” me, Sonny. I asked you a question.
Billy and me, we were both scared to death. Scared, and embarrassed. Our faces turned white, then they turned red.
Sir, I…I want you to know…I deeply respect and care for your daughter.
Oh. Well. That makes it all better. Problem is, Casanova, that doesn’t explain…
He crossed the room. Turned the stereo off. Picked up the record and jabbed the air with it.
This, Romeo. It doesn’t explain why you’re here making out to “Hamburger Lady.” What’s the matter with you? What is the world coming to, anyway?
He flipped through some albums next to the couch. Took out an old one. It started to play.
There, he said. Tommy James, the Shondells. Now that’s make-out music.
He closed the door, quietly this time.
Billy and me, we looked at each other. A minute went by that seemed like a…well, like a minute. Long one, though.
I think I should go, Billy finally said. I like you and all but…no offense, but your dad’s kinda strange…
I crossed the room. I turned the record over. First song on Side Two was “Crimson and Clover.”
Maybe, I said. Maybe he is. Know what else is strange? That’s not my dad. I’ve never seen that guy in my life.