It was black outside already. Flo and I stood looking at each other. I got into the back seat first. She followed. There we were. Flo and Elaine, the two sisters, crammed into the rear of a 1975 red, Pontiac Firebird. Our knees almost touched our chins. But really, who cared. We sure didn’t. We would glance at each other, excited to be together and on the road. Occasionally we grabbed the other’s hand just to make sure it was real. We were really headed to the Grey Cup in Calgary.
The guys, Al, driving; and Don in the passenger seat, were comfortably ensconced in the front. It was Friday night and we were headed to Calgary for Grey Cup Sunday. It was a twelve to fourteen hour drive. We didn’t care. We chattered in our excited anticipation of arriving at yet another sister’s, Nell (and Joe), where we were going to crash for the few days ahead. Grey Cup morning we had a champagne brunch scheduled before the game. Everything was planned. Everything was great. Any lull in conversation was replaced by radio music or cassette tapes. We were drunk in our anticipation and excitement.
Really, those guys never tired. Flo and I looked at each other and rubbed our aching knees. It was time for a pit stop and a stretch. A long stretch. We hadn’t travelled that far in distance. Al pulled into a gas station and we all climbed from the car. Flo and I crawled out from the back seat. We were able to go to the Ladies’ Restroom together, leaving Al at the cash register to pay for gas. Don was already in the Men’s.
Outside, Flo and I dreaded climbing back into our crammed space. We were in Saskatchewan somewhere; waiting on the guys. Al came out, climbed into the driver’s seat, got comfortable and muttered; “That Don! He’s always getting into trouble.”
“What?” Flo asked. “What trouble?”
“Just a minute. He’s coming.” Al answered.
Don opened the door and climbed into his seat. “Flo,” he admonished. “What kind of gauch did you buy me?”
“What do you mean? What kind of gauch would I buy? Why? What’s wrong with them?”
“Flo,” Don repeated, as only Don could. “These shorts have no fly. I couldn’t find the fly. How’d you expect me to pee? I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life? I wish you’d tell me these things before I embarrass myself, and embarrass Al too”.”
“How could you embarrass Al? What happened now?”
“Drive, Al. Just drive.” Don directed. He was upset.
Flo and I were grinning at each other. I mean how embarrassed was he, plus he had embarrassed Al?
“What happened Al?” Flo asked. She knew Don was ticked with her. “Tell me please.”
“Well,” began Al. “You gotta understand, a lot of truckers frequent gas stations.”
“Of course, we know that!” Flo answered.
“Well, standing at the urinal Don was trying to find his fly and he couldn’t. So, he asked me to take a look at his behind in case he had them on backwards. So I did, but I couldn’t see one. I stood up from bending down to find his fly, only to see a big trucker waiting. I was so embarrassed I ran into the cubicle leaving Don outside by himself. After, I quickly moved to the sink and left. Don was still looking for his fly.”
Flo and I burst into laughter. “Jesus” she said. “The shorts are speedos. I thought they’d be more comfortable in the car. Oh shit.”
“Oh shit,” Don repeated. “There’s no fly. I gotta use a stall to pee and to shit. Jesus Flo! Couldn’t you just buy me regular shorts like I always wear? What the hell were you thinking? Al’s standing looking for my fly when some trucker is staring at him. Jesus!”
“Good grief. I didn’t think.” Bursting into laughter, Flo grabbed my hand and slapped her knee repeatedly.
The rest of the trip the guys didn’t go into any washrooms together, thanks to Flo. No matter how thoughtful she was, it would get her in trouble.
- Elaine & Al Wagner