Chapter 29 National Cash Register

Now, if you are asking yourself, if this guy has a steel trap for a memory, I do have a pretty good head for recollection, but to be honest, I wrote most of these entries years ago in a journal of sorts.  To post them I am just updating them a bit, like with this intro, and then cutting and pasting the rest in.  So why didn't I finish posting these years ago?  Good question.  Too many things going on, procrastination, you know the normal list of things.

There was a club off of Peoria, which for a while in the mid 80’s, had a late night TV broadcast on a local station.  I can’t remember the name, but for a while it was a very popular place.  They put cameras in the club and telecast about an hour or so of the club’s goings on.  I use to go there frequently, making the drive from Bartlesville.  This is the club I took Dana to on our abortive date.  On another night I met a somewhat older gal that turned out to be the tri-state manager for National Cash Register or NCR.  We danced a while and then did the obligatory getting to know you routine, then decided to leave.  She had a condo nearby that we drove back to. 

It amazes me how trusting women can be, or were back then at least.  I must look like a nice guy, but then so did Ted Bundy.  My point being, I could have been a real crazy and here she invited me back to her place.  I did meet a couple of her girlfriends, and I may have shown them my driver's license just so they knew I was who I said I was and to increase her comfort level.  But there have been other times, when it was "how do you do, lets screw!" and we were off to the races without so much as an exchange of names that I can remember.

 

In the event, things worked out well for her and me.  She was a nice woman, probably about 9-10 years older than me.  Don’t get me wrong, but I was thinking sugar momma and gigolo.  Alas it was not to be. 

 

She didn't appear to be a cougar on the prowl, I think it was her celebration with her gal pals of her new promotion.  I just happened to be the icing on top of the cake.

 

She too was headed out of town, to Louisiana shortly after that.  She had gotten promoted, and was leaving in a week to take the other position.  So I guess I was a going away present so to speak.  It was too bad she was leaving, she was a hoot and fun to be with.  She turned out to be my one and only shot at a sugar mama.  She was probably near to pulling down six figures in the mid 80's, making almost twice if not three times what I was making.  It could have been fun, but turned out to be all too brief.

Back in the days of the Reagan Era, it seemed everyone was drunk on excess.  My god, there were new clubs popping up in Tulsa on Lewis and Peoria like mushrooms. There were clubs that I can't even remember the names of, nice glitzy upscale places on Yale and Sheridan.  Most were on Peoria or Lewis.  I used to go to the Double Tree for happy hour.   On Friday I would drive to Tulsa from B'ville to make a happy hour or two.  This was when Disco International in B'ville was beginning to fade. 

It seems that the down turn in oil prices hit the high rolling big spending locals first.  As stripper wells were shut in and plugged, more than a few locals in Washington County learned that the royalty money that all of a sudden seemed to be raining from heaven during the boom could just a quickly dry up.  I've heard of a lot of sad stories that would have ended differently had the individuals only put the money away; rather than spend it as fast as it came in.  They would have been set for life.   Instead they spent way too much and got in way over their heads and lost everything and then some when the tap was closed as the prices dropped.

As they say, only two things fall from the Heavens, manna and airborne rangers.

Trooping to Tulsa introduced me to a whole new group of people.  Like the nice buxom (yeah, that characteristic again) Catholic girl , who happened to be a nurse at St. Francis.  She had a nice personality, but struck me as a bit needy.  But what the hey? I liked her.

I was supposed to take her on a canoe trip but things got mixed up and it never happened.  I think her background was German.  Her biological clock was ticking and she wanted to have kids.  That gave me pause.  She struck me as one of the type who wanted about 8 or so, but she had the figure for it.  As my Ex Wife #1 would say she had "kartoffel stumpfers"  or potato stomping legs, and tiny waist and yes, as set of DDs. If I had to guess I'd say about 36 DD.  She would show up for happy hour with her blond hair hair up in a bun, channeling her grandmother, no doubt; her nursing uniform on, and this angelic look on her face.  This gal was like a rumbling volcano ready to spew hormones all over the landscape.  I had known two good Catholic girls just like her in college. One of them from very large family of 10-12 siblings from good practicing Catholic parents.  Birth control was not what they were practicing obviously.

I could tell our late 20’s something nurse was just waiting to sink her teeth into Mr. Right after about 25+ years of celibacy.  As Mr. T would say, "I pity the fool..."  It wasn't me, sorry to say, I would have liked to give it a go, but it never happened.  The happy hour crowd drifted on to another locale as they are wont to do, and I never saw her again.

I went to the New Year's Party there the following year in hopes that she might show up, but I didn't see her.  I had to go into St. Francis for knew surgery about 5 years later and never saw her either, but hopes of that were on the slim side, unless I knew exactly what unit she worked on, and I didn't.