"It's that magic time ..."

I'm in a 'remembry' mood today. Must be the weather, the time of year,  the day of the week, or just that I bid on a consulting job today, and was actually asked for an historical narrative of my work experience in the area they were looking for help with. The firm is European and 'oh so politely' implied that a woman probably didn't have the creds or presence to do what they needed. Don't know me at all, the fools. Anyway, I did it, and it sent me right back to the past and a certain phrase once more echoed through my head. EEEEK!!!!!!!!

One of the rare times I had a roommate when I first went out on my own, was an absolute wild woman of Portuguese extraction, from Rhode Island (Boston metro area) - Vivienne.  And I mean wild in a good way. Vivienne knew herself, was comfortable in her skin and NOT SHY at all. She was the exact opposite of who I was then, and to some degree, still am now. I admired that about her. And I LOVED how she cleaned house when company came over - can't count the times that she forgot to take everything out of the oven and dishwasher or couldn't remember where she'd stashed something important ... fact is, neither of us were spit-and-polish house keepers, but we got by anyway.

Viv and I nearly ended up not being friends when we first started rooming together - I discovered quickly we were dating the same guy - don't remember how I found out, exactly, but he was the one who put us together as roommates in the first place. I can only assume that was to make things convenient for himself. Creep.

In any case, I gave him what-for and broke off with him right before Viv found out about me - I found out about her first, thank goodness. I'm not sure I'd have survived the fall-out otherwise.  But, we survived David #1 the geologist and roomed together for a couple of years before she married David #2, the IT engineer. I sang at her wedding, in fact, but haven't spoke to her since her fourth child was born and have no idea where she and David have got to, these days. Wish I knew - I'd love to catch up.

Anyway, Viv was a morning person in the true sense of the word in that she bounced out of bed EAGER to greet the sun and cheerful as all hell. And she has got to be, hands-down, the funniest person I've ever met - really. But, back to my story.

I am also a morning person, but only AC - after coffee. I really need to absorb sunlight and silence for at least an hour, before I start my day. BUT, Viv used to drive me nuts in the morning - I'd be prowling my room, owl-eyed and snarly (get thee not between me and the coffee pot), when Viv would poke her head in with a cuppa, saying "it's that magic time ..." and give a laugh. Good thing she had coffee, too - I let her live another day, and she to this day probably has no idea how grateful I was for her fetching me a coffee - I was too busy snarling at her. But she didn't seem to mind ...

We were both with Phillips Petroleum at the time - Viv was a petroleum paleontologist, and examined foraminifera fossils - forams - in drilling cores to characterize prospective oil-bearing zones in the subsurface. Those of you not science-inclined need not worry - all you need to know is that oil field rocks with certain population profiles of forams (bugs) can be used to ID 'good' (and 'bad') oil deposits for further exploration.

Anyway, Viv spent her whole day looking at forams under a microscope, analyzing the likelihood that the company could make money from a given site, and she was good at what she did. However, by 5 pm, she was GLAD to get off the scope and break loose. That usually meant she started juggling everything she could pick up - socks, apples, oranges, staplers, paperweights, shoes, and keeping up a running patter about nothing at all, occasionally ending with "let's get a Pizzer and a Beah" in Boston-ese. That's pizza and a beer, in case you didn't guess. We both ate the pizza, sometimes with David #1 and later, with David #2 if we could get him to come out with the girls, and Viv drank the beer. David #2 didn't drink either - LOL.

Why did I bring that up? I remember a November day like today, that began with "it's that magic time ....', and ended on a surprisingly hilarious note, given the circumstances. Viv had a gawd-awful (in my opinion)  Datsun B210 70-something hatchback with standard trannie that worked, more or less, like it was supposed to (I had a brand-spanking new camaro). If you don't know what a Datsun is, think 'Nissan ancestor'.  Picture of a blue one like hers can be found here.

It had been a BAD day - the company had had layoffs and wasn't very considerate of the casualties OR the survivors: one of our colleagues jumped to his death after he lost his job. Another beat up the department manager - not that anyone cared much, none of us had liked him. But, as I said,there were people crying, there were guards everywhere man-handling everyone; the rest of us were scared to death, NO ONE would answer a phone for fear it was 'the phone-call of death'; we were all wondering what was coming next.

Viv, being Viv, popped out with, "let's get a Pizzer and a Beah" for lunch. Not something we did normally, but it sounded like a good idea, and the division head, whom we all liked very much, in contrast, provided enough cash to feed 3 times our number, telling us all to take the rest of the day off (I can only assume he did so to prevent any more assaults either by employees or the guards). In any case, off we all go to a local pizza establishment far, far away from the office; 7 pm rolls around, time to go home. Viv had driven us to work that day. I was sober, she wasn't. Now, Viv could NOT carry a tune in a bucket, but she was singing. Bad sign. She NEVER sang in public. Then she said she didn't feel well.

We got in the car; I'm a bit nervous, but not unduly - we only live 1/2 mile away, on the back roads, from where we were. Famous last words. Viv was such a mess that she couldn't shift the gears - the gear box was stiff - then it happened. She said I had to drive. HA. The only time I had driven stick was when my Dad was out of town. We'd drive his short-bed chevy pick-up for short trips, mostly because he told us not to, but it had a 3-speed trannie. We started it by pushing it down the driveway and letting it roll down the hill, with one of us steering. When it started, we all jumped in on the return swing up the hill..

Unfortunately, Viv's car had a personality as well as a four-speed, Japanese trannie. Took me 20 minutes to get it started, with Viv's attempts to assist, and then, I popped the clutch and killed it every other block. Naturally, we attracted attention- the local constabulary decided to check us out. It got worse; although we knew the officer (small town), he was also the police chief and as scary as they come. Spit-and-polish ex-marine who spoke often of the maggots around town that needed killing. On the other hand, he did like us both because he thought we'd been 'raised right'. Since I was driving and he knew I didn't drink - I was too scared to ask how he knew - he decided not to take us away. But he followed us home, then checked out the house ... then made sure the doors and windows were properly secured. GROAN.

Long story short: I heard about that November night weekly, for the next six months. I volunteered at the (then) new performing arts theatre for shows when I wasn't playing there with the symphony, and Mr. Ex-marine always worked security for the theatre. He would sneak up behind me and say, 'No more excursions in the Datsun, eh? HAW HAW HAW!'

Yeah. I thought that was the end of it, but NO. I had to drive Viv's Datsun again a month later - poor girl got pneumonia. I could handle her car by then - she had been taking me for Datsun driving lessons - they were quite entertaining for onlookers, I'm sure. That little car must have been tough, because, by all rights, I should have killed it. But I got Viv to emergency that evening, got David #2 on the phone so he could be with her, and called her mom. Vivienne gave us a good scare that time, but all came right in the end: she got better, she and David #2 married, and lived, as far as I know, happily ever after. And I didn't have to hear "It's that magic time ..." ever again. But, just thinking about that phrase made me smile and made the things I didn't like today, a bit easier to choke down.