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In the late 70's & early 80's my Dad was the team physician for El Camino's football team. I was a teenager at the time and went to some killer parties because of the connection. Never told my dad. It's probably a good thing because, well....you know."Whats a Pay phone?"
Decades ago, while pledging a Frat House at El Camino Jr College, we had an evening of gay ass bullchit of various things that we had to go through for Hell Night. In the late hours of the evening, we were blindfolded and driven for what seemed like a long time and eventually deposited on PCH. With jeans and t-shirts only and all, covered with various colors of lip stick, we all easily figured out where we were. Just a mile north of County Line, knew that a restaurant was there AND, a Pay phone. We all trudged down the side of the road till we could see the little restaurant perched on the overlook of the surf area, bitched and moaned how cold we were but knew that we could call someone to come pick us up.
We were all allowed to have 10 cents, no more, no less. A dime or two nickles. Someone said, I'll call so and so and dropped the dime in the slot, dialed up the numer and woke someone up and the conversation went something like this.
"Hello?" (out of a dead sleep at 3:00 in the morning)
"Craig. It's john Myers. We're at County line. Can you come pick us up?"
" Hello? Hello?
"Craig!! It's john Myers. We're at County Line. Can you come pick us up?"
"Helloo?" chit! ( dial tone)
And so,as the next person stepped up, dropped a dime or two nickles into the coin slot at the top of the phone, got a dial tone and dialed the next friends number, the same one sided conversation began again until 60 or 70 cents had been deposited into the phone. One guy finally stepped up and just said "phuckers" reached for the handset and unscrewed the lower mouth piece on the phone that contained the "microphone" on the handset.
The Frat boyz had removed the metal microphone piece that just sat within the lower portion of the phones handset and were probably sitting on the huge, over stuff couch in the Frat House on1st Street & The Strand in Hermosa, finishing off the gallon bottles of Red Mountain wine that we were encouraged to drink through the evening and laughing they're azz's off at us.
We all finally got rides back down to Hermosa, I went and got a showers and went upstairs to my room and went to sleep ( I lived in the Frat house) and the others collected their stuff and headed off to their homes. Quite the evening of "Hell NIght" and the one sided phone conversations.
This is the stuff of dreams. Malia. Yeah I know that's Lemoore, but oh well.
Uh, did you take a look at the toe set up on that left foot? No thanks, 4/7 WNBThis is the stuff of dreams. Malia. Yeah I know that's Lemoore, but oh well.
Well, sh!t. You're right. The dream is dead.Uh, did you take a look at the toe set up on that left foot? No thanks, 4/7 WNB
No the dream is alive. Her toe was just stuck in the wax. Malia has perfect feet.Well, sh!t. You're right. The dream is dead.
Malia's Dad "Selso," rocks The Bay on big days on a short board. When Malia was just a baby, Dad would take her out on a longboard and catch waves with her at the Hanalei river mouth sand bar and later as she got older, out to The Bowl on Dad's longboard. Most definitely a Water baby. Got to like the "Uncle Hugggz" when she's home ~This is the stuff of dreams. Malia. Yeah I know that's Lemoore, but oh well.