Sixteen and itching to get away from
Fast forward to the drive home (because really, it was a dew drop of a town and the most exciting happening was old Mr. Elmer farting in the Post Office and ending up with a puddle of shit around his boots. That’s not exactly People worthy gossip). We stop for lunch at a famous restaurant, Lambert's Café "The Only Home of Throwed Rolls".
No typos, that’s the name.
Yes, they are famous for throwing rolls at patrons while they eat.
Upon being seated Sue and I immediately noticed a table of Airmen in their flight suits eating nearby.
We have Guydar (kinda like penis radar but a nicer way of saying it).
After much debate and a few double dog dares from Sue’s father (and you KNOW Duckalicious RARELY backs down from a dare even at the age of 16), we giggle and swagger over to the table of guys. There’s just something about a man in uniform – even to this day they still
Anywhoha, we approach and the low rumble of conversation stops as four pair of eyes travel the length of us. Only two smile (damn! Rough crowd already and we haven’t even done anthing yet!)
We get down on one knee.
Curiosity is passed around the table.
Sue and I suck up courage from our toes and open our mouths…
"Baby, baby, I get down on my knees for you.
THAT broke the table into laughter.
Those 2 minutes were the beginning and the end of my singing career. Scarred for life I now just SIGN words to songs. I don’t SING them and I think ears across America are sighing in relief.