Dennis (3 short Adventures)

Adventure #1: Becoming A Man

When I was 17, my Mom spoke admiringly about Dennis, the son of a friend of hers. Naturally, without ever having met him, I had an instant dislike for him.

My parents split in 1960 and Mom and I moved to The Stardust at 3838 Gibraltar Avenue. This was a cheesy downstairs apartment in a new development Southwest of Coliseum and La Brea in L.A. The L.A. post war building boom produced many such slipshod tracts in it’s expanding suburbs. A rectangular box with 30 units, underground parking, a few plants, a swimming pool, thin walls and ceilings. One could hear his neighbor fart. I once poked a hole in the ceiling with a broom handle trying to get the neighbors upstairs to quiet down. It was a huge step down from the Village Green, built with careful planning and prideful workmanship, just prior to WW11.

Dennis lived with his Mom and Sister, Susan in an apartment next to ours, and we eventually met. Despite my initial jealousy, I immediately hit it off with Dennis. He was enthusiastic, smiley, intelligent, observant, knowledgeable, and funny as hell.

He also seemed worldly, having knowledge of women and had served in the military. As I prepared to go into basic training in the Winter of 1962, I was insecure about my chastity. I didn’t want to be the only guy in the Army who was still a virgin. As I was basically too shy to even talk to a girl, Dennis and I decided we could go to Tijuana to bring me up to speed.

Though I was terrified at the prospect, I feigned enthusiasm and agreed. Thus, the summer of 1961, we took off in my 1955 blue and white Pontiac two door sedan and drove to the Mexican border.

Once there, Dennis was his usual effervescing, grinning, kidding around self. I put on the face, but was still nervous as hell. I wanted to “become a man”, but not necessarily this way, or then.

At some point a taxi driver approached us and asked if we wanted some “girls”. Dennis laughed and enthusiastically said yes. My heart sank.

We got into the cab and drove to a seedy building somewhere in TJ. We were led into a courtyard and several women came out. We were told we could pick whomever we wanted, but instead two women chose us. Unfortunately mine was not so hot. Despite my protestations, she led me to a tiny “room” with a single bed in it. The “door” was a flimsy curtain that didn’t even reach the floor.

I’ll spare further details, but suffice to say, I didn’t truly become a man that day. Instead, I ended up feeling sorry for the young Mexican girl and she ended up feeling sorry for me.

Adventure #2: My First Drink

Because my Mom and Dad both at one time had drinking problems, I was not a fan of alcohol. As a teenager, I thought of going to the liquor store with a shotgun to blast all the bottles because of what alcohol did to my parents.

Despite this prejudice, there came a time over at Dennis’ apartment, I decided I’d like to try it, just to see. I was not coaxed into it by Dennis or his Sister Susan who was there also at the time. I suppose they just went along with my desire to learn. They broke out a fifth of their Mom’s Vodka and said this would be the easiest to drink because you could not taste it in Orange Juice. So they made me a Screwdriver. I took a sip and contrary to claims, I thought it tasted awful. The alcohol was nasty. Still, over a few minutes I managed to get the drink down.

After a few more minutes, I began to feel absolutely wonderful! Wow, this was great. I soon demanded more Vodka. This time without the Orange Juice. I simply chugged it straight out of the bottle, and the taste didn’t bother me at all. We went outside for a moment and I remember climbing stairs, light and sure footed. The world was a beautiful place, Wow!

After just a few more minutes, I began to feel not so well. I went back to my place next door to lie down. Dennis followed and noticed I had a late 50’s model Pentron reel to reel tape recorder, I’d bought from a guy at Sutton’s Service Station. He thought it would be cool to record me being drunk, so he did. I was lying on the sofa, when I suddenly felt sick. I tried to stand, but couldn’t. I rolled off the bed to my hands and knees and tried to crawl, but I couldn’t. All I could do was vomit, right there, on the carpet. I gazed down into the mess and stated: “cookies, my favorite frood”, much to Dennis’s delight. Later, with great amusement, we played that over and over.

Adventure #3 I Did Inhale

I was living in Long Beach, going to LB State, when I returned to LA to visit the Luftigs, c 1965. Pot, formerly very taboo, was gaining popularity among the youth of the day. I had never tried it, but was not against it when Dennis and Susan offered. I wasn’t a smoker, but given a brief demonstration, I eagerly inhaled and held in the smoke as instructed. I puffed and drew a few times and waited for something to happen. After several minutes, I wasn’t aware of any change at all. However I got hungry and was offered milk and chocolate cake. Wow, I couldn’t believe how tasty and how hungry I must have been. Best cake and milk I ever had! Still, I was disappointed that the pot seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

After the snack, I bid Luftigs goodbye, and drove off in my 1955 Buick Special. Going through the first dip in the road, I was somewhat alarmed at how slowly, quietly and deeply the car seemed to soar over this bump. I began to pay more attention and when the car seemed to float through the air when passing over subsequent dips in the intersections, I realized the pot was having a drastic, if not unpleasant effect, on my senses.

When I turned left off Stevely west on Coliseum, I thought I’d better pull off the road to assess my motor skills. I got out and walked to the grass on the parkway. My reactions and balance seemed OK. I felt I could easily compensate for my altered perceptions, now that I understood. I then fell to the ground, euphoric, and laughed for a few seconds. Then I thought it would be best to not draw attention to myself, so I jumped into the Buick and drove home, uneventfully.

END