The Pink Ford Escort

When I was working at a guitar store in Wichita, Kansas, a lady came in and tried to fix me up with her daughter. It was in the early afternoon and I was tired because I had already worked at two jobs that day. I was the guy who watered plants at a nursery, a sandwich artist, and a part-time guitar tuner and salesman. The guitar store was the best place to work because all I have ever really wanted to do was play guitar, and I got to, but the other employees were very challenging. David was the owner’s son and thought that he was the best thing to ever be created, and Andrew who was tall and quiet and the best friend to David.

When the woman came into the store, David and Andrew were trying to sell a bass to a man who was shopping for his son for Christmas. I overheard David tell the man that Peavey made a good bass for cheap and that it was just as good as a Fender. I was thinking about how untrue that was when she walked up to me.

The lady looked like Bret Michaels from VH1, not from the eighties. She had long blonde hair that was ratted up and sticking out from under her bandana. She was rough.

“Where are your beginners’ guitars?” she said.
“What kind of guitar are you looking for?” I said.
“I need one for my son, but I don’t need a nice one. He will not know the difference anyways.” She said.
“Electric ones are easier to play.” I said.
“Show me the cheap ones.” She said, “He is not going to care about it in a month or so, so I’m not going to spend the money on anything good.”

I showed her the cheapest guitars that we had. They cost us twenty dollars to buy from the factory, and we sold them for eighty dollars or so. This one was bright orange. I picked it because we had a new shipment of bright orange amps for a hundred dollars that would go along with it very well. I was trying to make this happen because I got paid by commission and needed that extra ten bucks badly. I was telling her about the guitar, and showing how much her son could rock if he had it. But, the whole time I was making my pitch, it seemed like she was more interested in me than the instrument.

“You need to meet my daughter; she’s not a slut or anything.” She said.

I had no idea what to do at this point; I wanted to laugh so much.

“I’d be glad to meet her sometime, what’s her name?” I said thinking that if I did meet her, then this lady would buy the guitar and amp.
“Her name is Kirstin and she drives a pink Ford Escort. She isn’t a slut though at all.”
“I’m sure she is not a slut.” I said, “What does she like to do?”
“She likes art, and goes to North High.” She said.

She was still in high school.

The lady did not buy the guitar then, but said that she needed to think about it more. She did leave with my phone number for Kirstin. She had to get it because we would have such a good time if we went out. I gave her the number thinking that the girl wouldn’t call me, but that the lady would remember how nice I was and come back and buy the amp and guitar deal. If she came back and bought the guitar and the amp, then she would need a tuner and picks along with more strings and other things. The possibilities were endless, and I would get a lot of money from the commission. When I got off work at six, I received a phone call from a number that I didn’t know.

“Hello?” I said.
“Hello is this Zach from the guitar store?” said a woman’s voice.
“Yes, who is this?” I said, thinking that it may be Kirstin.
“This is Laura, Kirstin’s mom; I was in the store today.” She said.
“Oh, how are you?” I said. “Were you calling about the orange guitar?”
“No. I just wanted to tell you that my daughter is really good for you, and in no way is she a slut. Kirstin also plays the French horn in the band. She is really artistic, and takes two art classes at her high school.” she said.
“Oh. Alright, well have her call me if she wants. Thanks for calling.” I said.
“She really is a nice girl,” she said, “I’ll have her call you.”

I was not expecting a call from Laura again, but she did call me one more time before I got a call from her daughter, Kirstin. I talked to her for a few minutes but it was late and she needed to get to bed. She asked me if I wanted to go on a date with her and see a movie. I agreed, but told her to get a friend and I would have one of my friends go also. A double date is the best way to have a blind date.

I asked my friend Mike to go with me on the date because he was tough and I was kind of afraid that the lady and her daughter would try to abduct me or something weird. Mike wanted to go because I had told him about Kirstin’s mom after she first called me. We were to meet Kirstin and her friend Meg at the downtown movie theater at seven thirty. We went to see some movie with Jim Carey as the star and it looked terrible. I did not want to go, but Mike and I did anyways.

We were sitting outside when a pink Ford parked and two girls got out.

“Are you Kirstin?” I said.
“Yes, and this is Meg,” she said, “and you’re Zach? And Mike?”
“Yep, let’s go see that movie.” I said.

The meeting was awkward, and I bought my ticket but not Kirstin’s. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. She was shorter than me, very skinny, and had the strangest gap in her top front teeth. Meg was about the same, but the gap was in a different place. Throughout the film, she kept talking to me at weird parts and asking me things that didn’t even matter. We had nothing in common.

“I didn’t know that this movie was about a man that kills children,” she said.
“Is that what this movie is about?” I said.
“I think so, have you been paying attention?” she said.
“A little bit.” I said.
“He is really funny,” she said. “I love Jim Carey.”
“This is definitely a Jim Carey movie.” I said.
“Do you ever watch The Simpsons?” she said.
“Doesn’t everyone watch The Simpsons?” I said.
“I’m not allowed to.” She said.
“How old are you?” I said.

The date was not going very well. Mike and Meg were not even talking, and I think that Mike was asleep for the whole movie. The movie ended but the girls wanted to do more with us. I had a bottle of whisky and a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon at my cousin Derek’s house so we went over there. The girls could only stay for a little while because they had to go to high school in the morning. I had to work with the plants, then sandwiches, and guitars the next day but those were things that I could also do hung-over. No big deal.

I started to drink the whisky and Mike and I got a little drunk and played music with my cousin. The girls both nursed their beers and then after about thirty minutes they said that they needed to go. Mike and I took a break from the whisky and walked them out to their pink car.

“I had fun,” I said.

This was more of me being polite than truthful.

“Me to,” she said.

She was being polite as well, but I thought that she was going to try to hang out with me again.

“Do you want to go do this again?” I said, thinking about that guitar and her mom and my commission.
“I don’t think that I can do this again.” She said.
“Do what again?” I said.
“We can’t date, I have a boyfriend.” She said.
“If you have a boyfriend, then why did you go to a movie with me?” I said.
“I just wanted a new dress and I am thinking that my mom will buy it for me if I go out with you. She doesn’t like my boyfriend.” She said, “But she liked you.”

And with that she got into the pink car to leave and never called me again. I never called her in the first place so that did not bother me at all. What did bother me was that her mom never came in to buy that damn guitar.