You Could’ve Had ME!

Work at The Pennysaver still felt like a game. And I still only worked three days a week.

After many months, the company announced that it would be switching locations from downtown Oakland to the much smaller suburb of Penn Hills.

Fortunately, Penn Hills was much closer to Pitcairn. And my new office wasn’t on the bus line, which meant I could drive myself to work in the Camaro. This left Larry literally in the cold (and rain) on the motorcycle, but he didn’t seem to mind.

I lost some of my work friends; Kim, Mike and Jemma chose not to move to Penn Hills with The Pennysaver. Brian, Jack and Glenn replaced them.

The new guys were about my age, and I liked them instantly. Glenn was a total nerd, which I found to be undeniably attractive. He had a dry sense of humor and listened to new age music; he intrigued me. Without saying it aloud, I imagined trading biker life for Glenn and his Honda CRX, which I thought was an especially cool little car.

And now that I was smoking pot, I’d stumbled upon a whole new world – namely Brian and Jack, who were both Deadheads and dealers. The first illegal drugs I ever bought came from Brian, who quickly learned to bring a little extra for the crew when he arrived at work.

We’d all arrive at 5 p.m. on Tuesday, ready for three days of eight- to fourteen-hour shifts. We’d munch on snacks and chat about everything, arguing over radio stations as we went. Our conversations ranged from mundane to philosophical, and I never felt bored.

And once I started smoking pot, I could hardly wait for lunchtime.

Jack would drive and Brian would roll the joints, and those of us who partook (everyone but Glenn) would drive to a park and get high. Then we’d eat our food and laugh like hyenas for the rest of lunchtime – followed by stifled giggles for hours, as though our boss didn’t know what we’d been doing on our break.

Through Jack and Brian, I was introduced to the “real” Grateful Dead – bootleg concert tapes, the travelers that called themselves Deadheads and followed the band around. I discovered that there was way more than just Casey Jones and Touch of Grey, and I heard a whole lot of live versions of songs I’d never heard previously. (Sugar Magnolia, Ripple and Uncle John’s Band are some of the best songs I’ve ever heard.)

During work, I found it harder to focus on the job when I was high, but I felt more sociable and included with “the guys” as a result of spending lunchtimes with my new buds.

Jack and Brian even invited me – and the rest of their colleagues – to a party at their house on the weekend. I went without Larry – who was playing with his band – and I discovered that Glenn was celebrating his new engagement to a girlfriend of three years.

It was now or never: I needed to profess my love for the nerd who needed only to know me better.

Drunk beyond wasted and nearly falling on Glenn, I blurted, “You could have had ME!” while spilling my beer on his shoes and trying to kiss him.

Glenn pulled himself back, his eyes widening as he sat stock-still, staring at me, wondering why anyone would purposefully choose a partner with even a single characteristic that I exhibited.

At work, Glenn never said a word about it; I pretended to forget it ever happened.

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