Laverne's friend, Winnie was visiting from their hometown in Minnesota. "We have to take her to the coolest spots in town," said Laverne, "so she can go back and tell my family what a great time I'm having." The Onion was the coolest bar in Quincy. I borrowed my boss's car for the night.
Laverne and I are nannies in Boston. We live five hundred yards apart and meet up every single day. The contrast in our appearances couldn’t be greater. With her Viking heritage, at 5' 8" tall, her fine baby blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes set into pink-white marshmallow skin, Laverne drew men to her like flies. With my Celtic skin, and being five-foot-tall with a lisp, I didn't even get the flies.
I collected Laverne and Winnie at 8 pm and with the No. 1 hit that summer, Too Late for Goodbyes by Julian Lennon blasting on the radio, we drove into the heart of Quincy looking for excitement. Within an hour inside The Onion, Laverne met Lennie.
According to Lennie, Dirty Dicks, a night club just an hour's drive outside Boston, was the place to be. With Lennie and his friends leading the way in their jeep, I followed in my car with Laverne and Winnie. Laverne told us Lennie was Julian Lennon's cousin. “Are you sure?” I said. “John Lennon was an only child.” Laverne didn’t care, she was in love.
Dirty Dicks was a huge wooden barn in the middle of a vast car park surrounded by fields. It was like Little House on the Prairie for badasses. Lennie bought everyone drinks and then disappeared with Laverne, leaving Winnie and me to fend for ourselves. We leaned against the wall watching the heaving dancefloor. The music was incredible but it wasn't Abba. Also, it slowly dawned on me, we were the only white people there.
After a few minutes, this six-foot-tall black man in his forties came up and asked me to dance. My brain screamed into overdrive.
Laverne and I are nannies in Boston. We live five hundred yards apart and meet up every single day. The contrast in our appearances couldn’t be greater. With her Viking heritage, at 5' 8" tall, her fine baby blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes set into pink-white marshmallow skin, Laverne drew men to her like flies. With my Celtic skin, and being five-foot-tall with a lisp, I didn't even get the flies.
I collected Laverne and Winnie at 8 pm and with the No. 1 hit that summer, Too Late for Goodbyes by Julian Lennon blasting on the radio, we drove into the heart of Quincy looking for excitement. Within an hour inside The Onion, Laverne met Lennie.
According to Lennie, Dirty Dicks, a night club just an hour's drive outside Boston, was the place to be. With Lennie and his friends leading the way in their jeep, I followed in my car with Laverne and Winnie. Laverne told us Lennie was Julian Lennon's cousin. “Are you sure?” I said. “John Lennon was an only child.” Laverne didn’t care, she was in love.
Dirty Dicks was a huge wooden barn in the middle of a vast car park surrounded by fields. It was like Little House on the Prairie for badasses. Lennie bought everyone drinks and then disappeared with Laverne, leaving Winnie and me to fend for ourselves. We leaned against the wall watching the heaving dancefloor. The music was incredible but it wasn't Abba. Also, it slowly dawned on me, we were the only white people there.
After a few minutes, this six-foot-tall black man in his forties came up and asked me to dance. My brain screamed into overdrive.
"A black man has asked me to dance.”
“What do I do?”
“Concentrate you fool and dance.”
“But how?”
I looked up at the man. He seemed oblivious to my presence. Completely comfortable in his own skin, he seemed to move with effortless grace. I moved like a person trying to stamp out a fire with my feet. I closed my eyes and searched frantically for inspiration. My inner voice spoke, “Stop panicking. Listen to the music. What can you hear? Look for the beat?"
I stood still. I felt the floor vibrate through my feet. The music seemed to pulsate through the walls. My breathing slowed down and so did my heart. I sensed the beat and then I felt it. I surrendered to it letting it synchronise with my own heartbeat. I started to move.
The fourth song was Barry White. The man leaned down and whispered, "I don't care for this slow stuff, I’ll check back with you later."
I returned to Winnie. She was still leaning against the same spot on the wall. "I can't believe you danced with a black man," she said.
I grinned, "Neither can I."
A few songs later the tempo switched up again. The man re-appeared as promised and we danced until closing time.
The lights went up. I hate this part: with a big red head on me and my hair plastered to my forehead with sweat, most men start running for the door. The man put out his hand and said, "My name is Randy, what's yours?"
"Geraldine," I replied holding my breath.
Randy shook my hand and said, "Geraldine, it's been a pleasure. Good night."
Winnie and I went looking for Laverne. As the nightclub emptied, it was clear she was no longer in the building. She could only be in the car. We stood in the doorway of the night club looking out into the pouring rain. We walked slowly towards the car. Judging from the condensation on the windscreen something was happening in there. As we got closer, we could see Lennie’s skinny white buttocks rising above the window line and falling.
We stopped, unsure of what to do next when a black corvette pulled up alongside us. The driver rolled down his window. It was Randy.
"What are you two ladies doing out here standing in the rain?" he said.
I pointed to the car and said, "Our friend is in there and she's having sex."
Randy laughed. "That's easy," he said. "You just go up to the window, knock real hard and let her know you're there."
"Thanks," I said. Then bracing myself to ask the question I've been wanting to know all evening, I said, "Randy, can I ask you something?"
“Sure.”
"Of all the people in there tonight," I said, gesturing my head towards the now-empty nightclub, "why did you ask me to dance?"
"You were there leaning against the wall with your foot tapping. I could see you wanted to dance and I thought, why not?" And then smiling at me, he said, "You're good."
He then rolled up his window and drove away.
I splashed through the puddles and keeping my eyes averted, I rapped sharply on the windscreen three times. Then taking several giant steps backwards, I stood with Winnie waiting. The driver’s door swung open. Laverne looked up at us smiling, "Oh Geraldine, I love you, but you can be so impatient."
Lennie disappeared. I slid into the driver's seat and turning on the engine, I cranked the heating up to max. With no-one to guide us home again, I peered through the driving rain looking for signs to Boston. Laverne, sitting in the backseat, chirped happily, "He's going to call me on Monday. I can't believe I made out with Julian Lennon's cousin. Wait ‘til I tell my Mom."
As the steam rose from my clothes and my teeth stopped chattering, I savoured Randy's words.
"Geraldine, I need to pee, could you pull over?" said Laverne.
"We're in the middle of the countryside," I said, "There's nowhere to go."
"Oh, just stop anywhere," said Laverne.
I pulled into the first wide gap in the road. Laverne clambered out and walking to the front of the car, she squatted down on the tarmac. The light from the headlights reflected off her snow-white bottom creating our own personal moon.
I smiled. I danced with a black man and the dancing was good.
“What do I do?”
“Concentrate you fool and dance.”
“But how?”
I looked up at the man. He seemed oblivious to my presence. Completely comfortable in his own skin, he seemed to move with effortless grace. I moved like a person trying to stamp out a fire with my feet. I closed my eyes and searched frantically for inspiration. My inner voice spoke, “Stop panicking. Listen to the music. What can you hear? Look for the beat?"
I stood still. I felt the floor vibrate through my feet. The music seemed to pulsate through the walls. My breathing slowed down and so did my heart. I sensed the beat and then I felt it. I surrendered to it letting it synchronise with my own heartbeat. I started to move.
The fourth song was Barry White. The man leaned down and whispered, "I don't care for this slow stuff, I’ll check back with you later."
I returned to Winnie. She was still leaning against the same spot on the wall. "I can't believe you danced with a black man," she said.
I grinned, "Neither can I."
A few songs later the tempo switched up again. The man re-appeared as promised and we danced until closing time.
The lights went up. I hate this part: with a big red head on me and my hair plastered to my forehead with sweat, most men start running for the door. The man put out his hand and said, "My name is Randy, what's yours?"
"Geraldine," I replied holding my breath.
Randy shook my hand and said, "Geraldine, it's been a pleasure. Good night."
Winnie and I went looking for Laverne. As the nightclub emptied, it was clear she was no longer in the building. She could only be in the car. We stood in the doorway of the night club looking out into the pouring rain. We walked slowly towards the car. Judging from the condensation on the windscreen something was happening in there. As we got closer, we could see Lennie’s skinny white buttocks rising above the window line and falling.
We stopped, unsure of what to do next when a black corvette pulled up alongside us. The driver rolled down his window. It was Randy.
"What are you two ladies doing out here standing in the rain?" he said.
I pointed to the car and said, "Our friend is in there and she's having sex."
Randy laughed. "That's easy," he said. "You just go up to the window, knock real hard and let her know you're there."
"Thanks," I said. Then bracing myself to ask the question I've been wanting to know all evening, I said, "Randy, can I ask you something?"
“Sure.”
"Of all the people in there tonight," I said, gesturing my head towards the now-empty nightclub, "why did you ask me to dance?"
"You were there leaning against the wall with your foot tapping. I could see you wanted to dance and I thought, why not?" And then smiling at me, he said, "You're good."
He then rolled up his window and drove away.
I splashed through the puddles and keeping my eyes averted, I rapped sharply on the windscreen three times. Then taking several giant steps backwards, I stood with Winnie waiting. The driver’s door swung open. Laverne looked up at us smiling, "Oh Geraldine, I love you, but you can be so impatient."
Lennie disappeared. I slid into the driver's seat and turning on the engine, I cranked the heating up to max. With no-one to guide us home again, I peered through the driving rain looking for signs to Boston. Laverne, sitting in the backseat, chirped happily, "He's going to call me on Monday. I can't believe I made out with Julian Lennon's cousin. Wait ‘til I tell my Mom."
As the steam rose from my clothes and my teeth stopped chattering, I savoured Randy's words.
"Geraldine, I need to pee, could you pull over?" said Laverne.
"We're in the middle of the countryside," I said, "There's nowhere to go."
"Oh, just stop anywhere," said Laverne.
I pulled into the first wide gap in the road. Laverne clambered out and walking to the front of the car, she squatted down on the tarmac. The light from the headlights reflected off her snow-white bottom creating our own personal moon.
I smiled. I danced with a black man and the dancing was good.
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