The party sounded terrible, but I let Mike talk me into it over the phone. I imagined his face: square jaw, square head, and huge square glasses. I hadn’t talked to Mike since high school and we didn’t part on the best of terms. He probably heard about Jennifer and wanted to gloat, but a party seemed preferable to another night listening to the AC struggle against the muggy heat that had settled on the town.
Mike lived way out on Frog Island Road, a blind left turn off a deserted county road. I had given him a ride home a few times in high school and knew the way, the dark turns coming back to me. His house was the only one lit up and there were a dozen cars in the driveway and along the soft-shoulder of the road. The heat hit me as soon as I got out of the car, wrapping me up in sweat. Bullfrogs croaked loudly as I walked through the wet grass.
I followed the sound of someone puking to the back of the house. The smokers were out on the deck, watching the party through sliding doors. I rummaged through a cooler before anyone noticed me. I had no idea there were that many varieties of wine coolers. I pulled two at random and leaned against the railing of the deck. I drained the first one quickly and tossed it out into the high grass of the back yard. Wine coolers and no beer. Hopefully, Mike would find the bottle with a mower.
I knew a few of the people on the deck in a vague way, a half-remembered class or linked circles of friends. Most were AP kids with white teeth that got good enough grades to go away to college and parents rich enough to pay for it. Mike wasn’t one of them, too many brothers and sisters to feed for his parents to buy him the right clothes and the right car. But he had been on a scholarship track and took all the same courses as they did.
I finished the second wine cooler and grabbed another one to take inside. The blast of cold air from the sliding door made me shiver. Mike’s house was the same as the last time I had been in it. The old, cheap furniture was as clean as his mother could make it, the avocado-colored kitchen looked like it was ripped out of an old magazine. Mike was hovering near the oven talking to Shelley Somebody. She was pretty in a boring way, fizzed out hair she had dyed too many times, OK body. She had been on the dance team with Jennifer. We had gone to prom with her and the boy she was slumming with. Travis? Marcus? He had streaked the hallway of the airport Ramada after prom, drunk on grape Kool-Aid and pure grain, his dick flailing.
I was grinning at the memory when Shelley spotted me walking over. She said my name like it was the medical term for a horrible tumor. I had no idea how she knew Mike.
“Hey, Shelley,” I said, “what’s your major?”
“I haven’t declared yet,” she said coldly. I didn’t know if she was in college or not. Some graduation party was the last time I saw her. She turned and stalked off, her ass barely mobile in high-waisted jeans.
“It’s nice to see you,” Mike said. He was wearing a polo shirt and had popped the collar. He was tan and thinner, but still had the same terrible haircut.
“Hey, Mike.” I took a long drink of sickly-sweet wine cooler.
“How’s school going?” he asked.
“Dropped out.”
“Community college was it?” he asked, all innocent.
“Yeah. What’s your major, Mike?”
“Economics.”
“Sounds interesting,” I mumbled.
“How’s Jennifer?” A huge shit-eating grin split his face.
“She’s great, Mike. Just great. How about you go fuck yourself?”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me.” I handed him the empty bottle and walked away.
Mike had wanted to go out with Jennifer for a long time and was still working up his courage when she and I started dating. I had a bad-tempered urge to hang out at the party all night and dare him to throw me out. These were Jennifer’s friends, Hondas and Swatches and academic scholarships. I felt like they were all looking at me. I wanted to vomit.
I was walking out when I saw her, alone, looking lost. Marti. The rest of the party fell away.
—
She had looked the same all the years I had known her. Small and thin and pretty, light brown hair that could never decide if it was curly, some silly hat squashed down on her head. Her dark eyes had smile lines even when she was in 8th grade, when we first met. My boots thudded on the floor as I crossed the living room.
We said each other’s names with real pleasure and hugged. She squeezed me tightly, but I held her carefully, like a small bird. Everyone really was looking at me now. I was touching one of their kind. She let go, took my hand, and led me out the front door.
“Are you here with anyone? Did you drive?” she asked on the front porch.
“I’m here alone.”
“Can we go? Do you mind?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to be here in the first place.”
“I’m glad you came,” she said. “I really hoped to see you.” She hugged me again.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Unless you can spare the time for me to punch Mike in the face.”
She laughed a little too loudly. Back in school she would have chided me for that–shocked, but sweet about it. Marti didn’t have a mean bone in her body, it seemed. Why she liked me was a mystery I was afraid to solve.
“I know about you and Jennifer,” she said, as we pulled away. “We don’t have to talk about it unless you want to.”
“What’s to talk about? She cheated on me and then dumped me.” She just let that hang as we pulled out on the highway.
“Where do you want to go?” I asked.
“Anywhere. I don’t care. Somewhere we can talk.”
“Like about why you were at your ex-boyfriend’s party?”
She shrugged. “Mike and I are still friends.”
“Why?”
She slapped me on the arm gently.
“We only broke up because we were going to different schools. He wanted to get back together over the summer while were home.” She slumped over in the seat and rested her forehead on the side window.
“I bet he did. I guess it’s too bad for Mike that Jennifer is now dating fuckface.”
“You need to stop hating Mike,” she said. She didn’t sound like she believed it herself.
“I was never going to like anyone who dated you,” I told her, taking her hand. “You were my first girlfriend, after all.”
“What about that girl at camp?” she asked, squeezing my hand. I forgot that Marti knew about her. I had forgotten that Marti knew almost everything about me.
“A summer fling. A doomed romance.”
“You talked about her all the time.”
“It wasn’t what we had.” I tried to keep a straight face.
“What did we have?” She was laughing. It sounded wonderful.
“Football games. All those football games.”
“Football games where you talked about her.” She tried to sound mad, but started laughing again.
“She meant nothing to me. She wouldn’t even leave Florida for me.”
“You were both fourteen!”
“You and I were both fourteen in the high jump pit.” Even in the dashboard lights I could see her blush.
“The high jump pit was a mistake. You took advantage of me.” She let out a mocking wail.
“The high jump pit was your idea.”
“Anything to shut you up about that girl.”
We had kept this joke running for years. What we never talked about was the end of the football season when we huddled under our coats in the cold aluminum stands and talked about what we were going to do after Christmas break. She wanted me to meet her parents. She thought a good way to do this was for me to go to church with her family. I told her I didn’t believe in God and wasn’t interested in going to any church. I was a real asshole about it and it killed whatever we were going to be.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We’re almost there.”
She leaned against my arm and rested her hand in the crook of my right elbow.
“I was at Mike’s house because I made Mike invite you.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Doesn’t matter. I just wanted to see you.” She shifted and wrapped her arms around my arm.
“You could have called,” I said.
“No, I couldn’t have. I haven’t called you or written to you since I left for school. It was shitty of me.”
“I just figured that you finally out-grew me.” I tried to make it sound like a joke. She didn’t say anything, but hugged my arm even tighter.
—
“Here?” she asked, laughing. “You drove us to Make-Out Park?”
“You said you wanted to talk and there’s nobody out here at this time of night,” I said.
It was a huge public park, constructed out in the middle of nowhere for the benefit of neighborhoods never built, for children that never lived next to it. The county didn’t even bother with any lights except a low wattage one over the community information board. I was wrong about it being too early; there was one car at the far end of the parking lot. As we parked, their dome light came on and I could see a bit of bare flesh before it went out.
“I want to swing,” she said and jumped out. The sky was clear and the moon was out. When I got out to follow her, she began running. She was already swinging by the time I caught up.
“Mike never bring you out here?” I asked, content to sit in the swing next to her and just watch her go back and forth.
“I’m not telling you that!”
“He always seemed sexless to me, like those ancient turtles that move so slowly you can’t imagine them fucking.”
“Tortoises!” she yelled as she passed me.
“What?”
“Tortoises! Those are tortoises, not turtles.” She jumped at the height of her swing and landed in the wet grass.
“What’s the difference?” I asked. She threw her hands up like a triumphant gymnast.
“Water,” she said, breathing heavily. “Tortoises only live on land.”
“You learn all this nonsense in your fancy college?”
“Har-dee-har-har.” She walked back and caught her swing.
“What’s your major?” I asked. She sat and began twisting around and around, the chains above her groaning as they got tighter.
“What’s my major? Are we at a freshman mixer?”
“I thought that’s what I was supposed to ask college kids. It gives them a chance to talk about themselves.” Her laughter echoed in the dark as she lifted her feet up and let the tension in the chain twirl her around.
—
“What are you going to do about school now that you are back?” she asked. We were laying side-by-side on the merry-go-round.
“I don’t know. Take a year off, at least. They academically suspended me from community college.”
“What?”
“Failed every class in the second semester.”
“What?”
“I never went to class. It was boring. It was high school all over again, just with ashtrays.”
Marti had been concerned with my grades since I walked into art class on the first day of high school and sat down beside her. We both acted like the last year of not seeing each other never happened. We were friends again in an instant, but never anything more. She took a straight-A student’s interest in my classwork, bugging me to finish assignments on time and occasionally demanding to proofread papers. It took forever to get her to stop.
“Enough about me. Are you seeing anyone?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
“No. Not really. Sort of, I guess.”
“Which is it?” I asked.
“He’s just a boy. It’s no big deal.”
“OK, now I want to know everything.” I rolled over on my side to look at her. “And then we can braid each other’s hair.” She made a face and rolled over herself.
“I don’t want to talk about it. What about you?” I thought about Olivia shuddering on the washing machine. Where that was going was anyone’s guess.
“There was somebody, but I think I’ve fucked it all up,” I said. “It was stupid anyway.”
“Anyone I know?”
“I doubt it.”
She leaned forward and kissed me before I could figure out what was going on. I didn’t even manage to kiss her back for a few very long seconds. I pulled away when her tongue darted into my mouth.
“Marti, this is a really bad idea,” I said. She was still so close I could barely focus on her. Despite the heat, her breath was hot on my face.
“I don’t care,” she whispered.
“I’m all fucked up, OK? And you’ve got to go back to school at the end of the summer, right?”
“Shut up, just shut up.” She got up and ran toward the parking lot.
—
I got in the car with her and asked, “Do you want me to take you home?” She shook her head violently.
“You were the first person I ever kissed,” she said.
“In the high jump pit,” I said. We had been jumping off the bleachers into it. When we were both laying there on the thick mats laughing, I kissed her. I remembered it as being amazing. I had probably slobbered all over her.
“But you had kissed that girl at camp,” she teased. “So I wasn’t the first person you ever kissed.”
“You knew I had a past,” I said, mock indignant. She finally laughed and turned to face me.
“I don’t care about any of it. Will you just kiss me?”
I pulled her toward me and kissed her. It went on and on. I finally broke off and began to kiss and lick the hollow of her neck. She shivered.
“Yes, yes,” she whispered.
She pushed me away and took off her shirt. I ran my hand over her smooth stomach as she unhooked her plain bra and tossed it into the back seat. Her breasts were small and I was able to take one all the way into my mouth. I teased her nipple with my tongue. She urged me on, rubbing me through my jeans. I began to slide my hand slowly down the front of her shorts. She was trembling and saying yes, yes in a thick voice.
I looked in her eyes as I moved under the elastic of her underwear. That’s when I saw the tears streaming down her face. When I froze, she pulled my hand out of her shorts and began sobbing loudly.
“We can go slower,” I said quickly. “We don’t have to do anything at all.” She cried even harder, slumping forward, her hands cradling her breasts. She began gasping for breath.
“I’m sorry,” I said, afraid to touch her. She shook her head.
“It’s not you,” she said, miserably. She let her breasts go to cover her face.
“Come on, lean back,” I said.
I pulled her hands away from her face and began putting her shirt back on, feeding one arm through, then the other. She watched me with wet, red eyes as I pulled the shirt down and tried to smooth it on her body. When I was done she put my arm around her and lay across my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair as she cried a little bit more.
“I lied to you,” she finally said. “He’s more than I said.” The boy at school.
“What’s his name?” I could feel her breathing against my chest.
“Paul. He wanted me to stay with him over the summer. At his parent’s summer home. In Maine.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
“I don’t know,” she said hollowly. I kissed her lightly on the top of her head and she squeezed me tighter.
“I don’t know if it’s real,” she said.
“If what is real?”
“Us. Me and him. I don’t know.”
“Maybe you don’t have to know everything.”
“I know about you. I know how I feel about you,” she said.
I didn’t say anything and just held her. When she was done crying, I took her home. She got out of the car and then back in.
“I shouldn’t do this to you,” she said. She kissed me again, forcefully, smashing herself into me. “It’s not fair.”
“Nothing is fair,” I said. This started her sobbing again.
“I love you,” she said. “I always have.”
“I love you, too,” I said. “We have all summer to figure this out.” I wanted to grab onto her, I wanted her to drag me out of the break-up with Jennifer, and having to move back home, and all my other failures.
“Good-bye,” she said and ran into the house.
—
The next day I dropped by her mom’s florist shop, happy for the first time in weeks. Marti worked there during the summer.
I asked her mother if she was there, could I talk to her. She was confused, told me Marti had left early that morning for Maine and was gone for the summer.
I stumbled out of the flower shop.
She left. Fled. Couldn’t even talk to me about it.
I found her bra in the car and spent an embarrassing few minutes smelling it, trying to fix her in my mind.
“Good-bye,” she had said.
I knew I would never see her again.
She was confused, told me Marti had left early that morning for Maine and was gone for the summer.
I was wondering how this would break.
Fuckin’ Paul.
First guffaw.
It was only a few years ago that I learned about the tax reasons for the decline of the wine cooler and the rise of malt alcohol becoming its replacement.
We can wait for the Zima to make its appearance in the story.
I haz a sad.
I miss those things.
Oof, right in the feels. I don’t miss that stage of life.
I wonder how many people experienced this sort of scene. I imagine that literally nobody born into the smartphone era has.
Well, now I feel like an ass for laughing at the wine cooler line.
Don’t.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELGaHaZzwjU
OMG, this is so moving and so sad. Like Subaru Horror Theatre without the supernatural and grotesque elements.
And smutty.
Mojeaux could subcontract out her sex scenes to Sug.
It’s like being at work. Just waiting for the shoe of doom to drop. And it doesn’t.
I miss Subaru Horror Theatre.
I feel like they betrayed me.
Terror, it’s what’s makes a Subaru a Subaru.
Good stuff.
Failed the test.
Turing?
Let me tell you about my mother…
I… hmmmm… well… this was different.
Probably happened to someone else. Never happened to me…
Speaking of failure
The pandemic-era backslide in math and reading scores for students across the U.S. was not a sudden catastrophe but the continuation of a brutal, decade-long “learning recession” that began years before COVID-19’s arrival. That’s according to the latest Education Scorecard, an annual deep-dive into student data from The Educational Opportunity Project at Stanford University and Harvard University’s Center for Education Policy Research.
The new Scorecard, released Wednesday and in its fourth year, offers several revelations for families, educators and policymakers looking for clarity — and hope — at a time when public education has been blamed and battered for those persistent declines in student performance.
Among the report’s takeaways: Most states are finally making gains in math; federal relief dollars likely helped the lowest-income districts mount a hearty comeback; and, while most states have yet to make gains in reading, those that have all made legislative changes to how it’s taught in their schools.
We’re just not hitting it hard enough. More of the same, with bigger budgets, should do the trick.
I read a few of articles on this. Only one noted the strides the south has made. Mind you they had room to grow, but funny how unions have less influence there and the population seems more focused on the basic things and education should provide.
It once in my Reading for Elementary Education course did we learn anything about phonics or how to teach a child to read.
Prof talked plenty about unions and how important a teaching certificate was and that the other college profs didn’t have one and should be forced to get one.
https://oregoncapitalchronicle.com/2026/03/31/a-pencil-running-for-oregon-governor-hopes-to-make-their-mark-on-education-issues/
“Marti didn’t have a mean bone in her body”
And his never got in it.
“ Why she liked me was a mystery I was afraid to solve.”
Ouch.
Describes every girl ever interested in me. Often wondered what they were thinking but didn’t want to scratch that too hard, particularly back then.
“I wouldn’t go out with anyone who finds me attractive.”
– Yogi Berra, probably
“I didn’t say half the things I said.” – Yogi Berra
Groucho Marx. “I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member,”
That story is too close for comfort.
I used to call it the Disappearing Act. Now it’s ghostIng. Same thing, different time.
So a few years before this, I created a drink around wine coolers. I was 17, so you take would you can get, so I ended up with some Bartles & Jaymes Orange Wine Coolers. And my friend Derek had a pint of 80-proof Smirnoff’s.
One large cup of crushed ice from a gas station
Two Bartles & Jaymes Orange Wine Coolers
Half-pint of vodka
I called it a Piledriver.
We had supplies for two. Drank them in the back of a pick-up at the drive-in. Oh, my goodness, I was hammered, like, for hours, the sickly sweet taste coating my mouth. Wine Coolers were off the menu after that.
I’ve had similar aversion to peach flavored anything after a bad wine cooler experience in college.
I get it. I couldn’t drink beer for nearly a year after my 16th. Life tip: projectile vomiting popcorn and beer through a screen door is not a good time.
I drank way too much Jack Daniels straight out of the bottle at a party in high school.
I still don’t like the smell of it.
You have to get a lot of velocity to get pieces of popcorn to go though a screen.
I can’t tolerate anything with tequila in it because of something I did 40 years ago.
Cheap tequila is right out for the same reason. I need at least reasonably priced tequila to avoid the flashbacks. Its the smell.
I couldn’t drink rum for nearly twenty years after a particular episode of college overindulgence (that ended up with me puking on the bar.) Apparently I go from looking and acting relatively normal, to blowing chunks, in very short order…
The Piledriver is clearly a vodka and prune juice.
Dude. I’m imagining the consequences of over-indulging.
Technically, that drink is called Draino.
I went through a period in which every girl I went out with dumped me for her old boyfriend. I should have gone into business as a relationship rehabilitator.
That was a movie with Dane Cook. The least funny comedian to ever be successful.
Damn SF, that was kind of harsh.
I think Marti would fit in here though:
I can appreciate the pendaticness.
TPTB: You scheduled my submission, but I would like to make an edit, is there a way to allow me to do that, or temporarily unschedule it?
I can kick it back into draft. Is it just your most recent post to be scheduled?
I found it. It is now unscheduled and in drafts.
Thank you very much.
I have either improved it or overworked it and made it much worse.
Either way, I am going with the updated version.
Okay, I have resubmitted. Thank you much.
I will have to have a large whisky tonight, to deal with this story.
Hope it makes you “feal” good.
I hope he feals with the storm.
It’s how he lear to deal with storms.
Do you smell burnt toast?
No, just poor typing.
I can appreciate the pendaticness.
Typos aside, I believe the word you’re looking for is “pedantry”.
*thunderous meta applause*
🤯
A week or 2 ago we were talking about hybrids. This guy goes deep on energy usage and conservation in the Toyota system.
https://youtu.be/KnUFH5GX_fI
Ahh Alex… Uber nerd. His other vehicle is Kia EV.
Toyota has one of the best hybrid designs on the planet. It’s got more parts, but is just as reliable as most pure ICE drivetrains. Biggest weakness on older models is they like to go through head gaskets.
I’m needing out on dishwasher detergent and settings now.
Fantastic story. I loved it.
Fantastic biographical. I loved it.
Great story.
Good news — I’m not queasy after reading the Wed lunch post and trying to eat lunch.
Bad news — The content is still disquieting in a new way.
Leave it in full view in your new open office plan.
That’s definitely a plan.
RIP Donald Gibb. A favorite supporting character.
https://x.com/i/status/2054419032741187807
Oh dang. I loved that guy. Always wanted to visit his restaurant. RIP.
He also had his own beer at Trader Todd’s:
https://www.tradertodd.com/
NEEERRRRRDDDSSSS!
Always laughed at the piss scene where he is at it for a good 60-90sec of screen time
Scary
“They’re absolutely more than worried — they’re scared stiff,” said Michael Dunne, chief executive officer of Dunne Insights, an automotive consultancy. “Imagine if the Chinese come in with a $25,000 EV. That could catch like wildfire.”
Oh, horror. Trump is going to let the Chinese in!
Never mind that EV crap. Let Nissan sell the gasoline pickup truck they sell in South America.
Hear hear! Drop excessive regulations altogether and let people buy what they want.
Hmmm. Is Trump still pissed at Elon?
Nissan patrol, Toyota Hilux (the real ones)
Suzuki Jimny, and all their other stuff too.
Is Trump still pissed at Elon?
No idea, but I think Musk is part of the China junket.
Correct. Saw what I believe is a real picture of them together on AF-1. But who knows now.
Remember, Elon is moving on to robots from cars.
He seems to know that EVs are a dead end.
Yeah, but if Tesla tanks, surely that hurts his finances.
Not if. When.
I assume he’s making adjustments.
He’s a brilliant guy, but he has the soul of a grifter. I can’t imagine him being caught off guard by a sudden turn of misfortune in the EV market.
You are looking at this through a US lens.
Europe is still there and China. And don’t forget the 42 million people stuck north of the US. They have yet to repudiate our green utopia.
Growth in Tesla is tapped. However, the stock is valued mostly on its self driving stack. That bubble has yet to pop unfortunately.
You are looking at this through a US lens.
Of course. Fuck the rest of the world. 😉
Great work- you’re all fired
Walmart has eliminated 1,000 roles as the world’s largest retailer simplifies its operating structure, a source familiar with the matter told Reuters.
Under new CEO John Furner and a reshaped leadership team, the retailer is doubling down on a tech-focused strategy as it woos higher-income shoppers and builds its marketplace and delivery businesses.
——
“We’ve made changes to simplify how the work is organized, make ownership clearer, and better align roles to the work and skills we need going forward,” said Walmart’s head of global technology Suresh Kumar and head of global AI acceleration Daniel Danker in a memo to employees on Tuesday.
The company had moved from organizing separately for Walmart U.S., Sam’s Club, and its international markets to building in a unified way on a single, shared platform over the past year, according to the memo.
In a few years somebody will come up with the genius idea to split them up, to better focus on division goals and processes.
1,000 positions out of an employee base of 2.1M. Rounding error.
Not positions (people). Roles (job titles). No idea how many people that will turn out to be.
I took them off the approved vendor list when they stopped selling handgun ammo.
Immanentize the efficiencies.
Tesla just discontinued two models.
Announced a while ago.
RIP
My last incandescent three way bulb. Exploded in my hand as I was installing it.
https://ibb.co/XNFmw1g
Exploded in my hand
That’s what you get for murdering Gaia.
I’m sure you can find one on Aliexpress!
Hah! Facebook Marketplace!
Unless Massie can turn things around, he’s out. Could be polling is hitting mainstream MAGA peeps who have an interest to push polls, but the campaign here against him is quite punishing.
He’s put out two new ads past couple weeks about how much he agrees with Trump and how he’s a good ole Kentucky boy.
I saw the latest bits against him: Accusations of paying hush money he was in a relationship with. Newsweek found that the woman had made claims of DV in a divorce case a while back. The judge threw the claims out. Which tells me she has a history of making false claims.
Ya that was a direct hit piece to his family ad. If it wasnt, timing was perfect.
Helpless
A string of geostrategic missteps he made over the past year — undermining U.S. alliances, starting a costly trade war and attacking Iran — has left the president in a weakened position heading into a high-stakes summit with Chinese President Xi Jinping, foreign policy experts say.
“He comes at a much-reduced capacity,” said Aaron David Miller, a veteran diplomat and foreign policy expert with the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.
And Beijing is aware of it, analysts say.
Xi will be on him like a hyena on a baby zebra with a broke leg.
Hilarious.
Links are now up.