Trigger: Random memory while searching for old friends on Facebook
We were out of high school, that much is certain, with all of us off to our various colleges doing whatever. But the exact timing and date is fuzzy, not sure why. Seems like it might have been summer between freshman and sophomore college years, but just guessing.
Anyway, several of my high school friends got together one night. And again, the actual tally of who was in this group is blurry. I'm certain Erika L. was there, and it may have even been her car, or at least somebody's car that she was driving.
Really odd to me that I don't clearly remember the participants, but one event on that night is crystal. Wonder what that's all about?
So we all pile into the car, and for whatever reason we head back to the old stomping grounds around Broken Arrow Senior High. Don't recall if we drove to that area on purpose, or if we were just joy-riding and somebody said "hey, let's hit the high school drag".
We pull up to the intersection of Main and College. This is a major crossroads, in a way, though more symbolic than actual. Main St is, of course, Main St. Back in the day, this was the main thoroughfare, but that was YEARS ago, way before our high school days. Even then it was nothing more than a quaint reminder of times gone by. The focus of the city had long since shifted elsewhere. But still, significant in a way.
And then there's College St. This section of that road led smack into the back of Broken Arrow Senior High. The campus used to be an actual college decades ago, but had been the high school campus for a long time.
So we were at ground zero for our memories of both the high school and the town.
And I happen to glance over and see that one of the Main/College street sign toppers is laying on the ground instead of on the pole. What the hell? What happened with that? And then I get the idea.
"Let's take that street sign."
Immediate cries of approval, therefore indicating that drinking was most likely involved. The driver zips up to said fallen signage, and we initiate Operation Grab and Run.
Now, one thing you may not know about sign toppers: They are much bigger than you think they are.
So I throw open the door, reach down to grab the booty, and quickly realize: I can't get it into the car. It's too big. And it's freakin heavy.
I understand that I explained above that this was no longer a major conduit in the town of Broken Arrow. But it wasn't exactly tumbleweeds and nothingness, either. There was still plenty of activity. For an example, activity that might involve curious police officers.
"Just GO!" I scream out, clutching and sweating.
The driver floors it and we race down the street, my ass is hanging out the door, doing my best to keep the sign metal from scraping the pavement and sending sparks flying, but not always succeeding in that mission. (Did I mention it was heavy?)
Somebody was holding on to me. Not sure. What I do know is that our own Mario Andretti was hitting every damn pothole she could. It's amazing I didn't lose any teeth.
Then, suddenly, Mario is taking a corner on two-wheels, tires squealing. We shoot down a side street, run over something, another swerve, and we come to a jolting stop.
I look up, still clinging to the contraband.
We are in the parking lot of the oldest Methodist church in town.
Great. Nothing like committing a sin and then driving straight to God for the consequences. Thanks, Mario. Love ya.
So I fall out of the car, lug the sign around to the back of the car, and we heave it into the trunk, where it miraculously fits. (Well, duh, we're at a church.) Then we scramble back into the car and race way into the night.
I have no idea who ended up with that sign. I'm hoping that whoever it was still has it, and still remembers.
And can tell me who was in the car that night....