So there I was, sitting by the pool, gorgeous sunny day (but ain’t they all) in Southern California, just chillin’ with me posse, when out of her flat (ground floor, fortunately for her) stepped Bonnie, Philip’s girlfriend. And next to her, clad in a gold bikini, was 6 feet of blonde. Not a blond with 6 feet, you have to go to Alabama for one’o them, or Norfolk, but a six foot tall blonde. Slim but not skinny, with legs somehow 7 foot long and a sway that caused every pair of male eyes to suddenly look over the tops of their sunglasses. Susan had arrived.

Fresh off the boat from Indiana. Or the plane? Car? However one travels from there to here, that’s what she did. To work at the ‘world famous’ (everything in America is ‘world’ famous, even the local paper shop) Fredericks of Hollywood. As a lingerie model. Fredericks was a kind of proto-Victoria’s Secrets. Before Victoria was born. Or maybe Freddie was a ‘trans’ and later became Victoria, with that information being the ‘secret’, I don’t know.

What I do know is that a group of us went out that night to some Hollywood night haunt or other and were all high and drunk and having the best of times. The next morning, Susan & I were still having a great time… well I was, at least. A ‘long relationship’ in LA, circa 1982, terms. Though at what point two people ‘hooking up’, as its now known, becomes a ‘relationship’ is a matter open to interpretation, to discussion and dependent on other opportunities not as yet apparent. Hmmmm…

I’d given up the horrors of telephone sales and become a Professor. I saw an advert in the LA Times for a lecturer at the American College of Optics in Downtown LA. I impressed them with my cv (gas pumper, seller of dubious, FBI investigated products over the phone…) and started work about a day later. I loved teaching, loved the ‘kids’ (many of whom were older than me) and only lectured 3 days and 4 evenings a week. So no massive drain on pool time, clubbing time, fun time. And even time for Susan, in our as-yet-undefined relationship.

Meanwhile, what’s to love about LA? On a day in March my mate Paul said: do you fancy skiing on Wednesday? But of course, I love skiing. But its kind’a hot and sunny and… errr. flat here? Ah, we’ll go to Squaw Valley. We set off early, really early, arrived just before lunch and had to stop half way up the mountain to put snow chains on the car. We skied, it snowed, a lot, and then they announced they were going to be closing the (one and only) access road to the resort due to the conditions. We fled. Just made it out of Dodge in time.

3 days later I went sailing with Robert and Debi at Marina del Rey, just on the coast in LA. Hot, sunny and gorgeous. What’s to love about California?

Some would say ‘too much’. Because whilst Susan was waiting relationship-definition, Debbie arrived from New York, an old friend of Joey the ‘hit-man’. And life got a little complicated.

Happy Days

A xxxx