Boys in cars

I painted this VW Rabbit for some friends of mine. When I was painting it I realized it reminded me of a little orange Suburu my best friend Adrian bought when we were about sixteen. Aside from some generic nostalgic memories it brought back, like driving to LA to see various bands play, I also remembered a few really funny stories that involved that special car. I will share two of them now: 

Story one: 

My friend Adrian was very excited about getting this car. His dad had given him a few thousand dollars in cash to get it. Adrian was supposed to meet the owner and pick up the car later on in the day. He was so excited that he would nervously count and re-count the money that he was keeping in an envelope. One small bill at a time. Now, I don't know why all the bills were like twenties or something--but they were. Maybe his dad was a stripper or something like that back then. I just don't know. . .yes, I do know. There is NO way Adrian's dad was a stripper. But whatever. Getting off track. We drank tea and waited to meet this guy. Whenever Adrian left the room, I would take the money out of the envelope, throw it on the floor, take my shirt off, and roll in the money. Adrian would come back in the room, get all upset, and re-count the money and put it back in the envelope. Every time, he thought the joke was done. But every time he left the room I did it again. It was so funny because it just never got old for me. That is what made it so absurdly funny to me. If he still had that money, or any money in an envelope, I would still be doing that sixteen years later. That is how funny it was to me. I don't think Adrian was too amused.

Story two:

Adrian had a music teacher. I don't remember her name. I do, however, remember her cat's name. Ducky. I remember Ducky because Ducky was called Ducky because Ducky was too fat to meow. Ducky would try to meow but all that came out was a strained, low-pitched quack. So imagine a cat that was pretty much the size of a golden retriever and very much looked like a golden retriever--an over-weight golden retriever at that. Truly a huge cat. Just huge. So anyway, we were over at the music teacher's house. I was sitting on the couch and Adrian said he had forgotten something for his music teacher, so he went to get it from the car. A few seconds later the music teacher and I looked at each other curiously. We had heard Adrian scream. A second later Adrian comes back, looking as white as a piece of paper. We asked him if he was okay and he said, "yeah." He explained that he had just slammed his finger in the car door. I stood up and made Adrian sit next to Ducky. The music teacher went to the kitchen and got Adrian a glass of water. He was still very pale. He didn't want to admit to me and his teacher how much pain he was in. I think he thought, come on, it's nothing. I just smashed my finger in the door, it's nothing. I was worried because he kept getting whiter and he started mumbling. All of the sudden he passed out right onto Ducky. I think it was the fastest that cat had ever moved in his life trying to get away. I just remember it all in slow motion. Adrian falling onto that big fluffy orange belly and a shocked very loud "quaaaack" coming from Ducky. It wasn't funny when it happened. But as soon as it was clear that Adrian was fine, it was pretty funny alright. Ducky was the most shook up. Be careful acting stoic. Because, who knows? You could pass out on an obese cat if you're not careful. We drove to the beach after that in Adrian's Suburu.