The other day I wrote about ice cream, and somehow I left out a significant ice cream place. When I thought about that, I remembered a story that I often don’t tell. So, here is the ice cream update!
Dairy King sits at the corner of Lorain Road and Barton Road in North Olmsted, Ohio. It was an easy ten minute walk for us from our neighborhood. Cut through the yard to get to Cambridge Drive, walk through Chestnut elementary school playground and up the driveway to the main road, walk west past the beauty shop that smelled strongly of ammonia and chemicals those summer afternoons, and then you were there. The lady with the bright green eyes who never smiled would get you the chocolate cone of your desired size. Sit on the benches and eat. Walk back home.
Our summer days often went like this: swimming when the pool opened at 11:00, home for lunch after noon, play croquet in Becky’s backyard, walk up to Dairy King, play some more croquet or go back to the pool until dinner.
Sometimes, if we got involved in other stuff, we saved Dairy King for after dinner. It was one of those after dinner voyages in the summer of 1970 that I got picked up at the Dairy King.
This was the summer between 9th and 10th grade. I had failed miserably in the boy department. I was often overlooked and just didn’t connect to the guys that I wanted to connect with. I had been on a couple of dates, but no one that exciting.
So, there we were sitting and across the way were two guys there in baseball uniforms eating their ice cream. One of them walked up and said to me, “That guy over there wants to go out with you.” After a bit of conversation, I agreed. The guy that was talking was named Jerry — he was older, about 19 I think, and was the coach of the team the other guy was on. John was my age.
John and I went on a double date with Jerry and a girl named Bev. We went to Great Northern Theater to see Kelly’s Heroes — as far away from something a girl would enjoy watching as you could get. John was extremely shy and basically said nothing to me. The movie was deathly boring — all about war. Bev and me went to the restroom sometime during the movie and she let me know she was uninterested in Jerry and, as a matter of fact, she thought the two of them were gay. She probably didn’t say “gay” though. Most likely she said “homos” because that is what we called them.
Anyway, after the movie is fuzzy to me. I think that Bev asked to be taken home, and Jerry, John, and I went to Kenny Kings for a snack. Jerry did all the talking. John fell out of the picture.
After that, Jerry ended up coming over to my house one hot summer evening.
I will share that story tomorrow 🙂