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1983 – Goodbye...

1983 – Goodbye...


1983 was the year of the 2nd US Festival but it was more than that. How much more? Well let me think... That year the final episode of the popular TV show M*A*S*H was aired, all 2&1/2 hours of it. The Senate created a new National Holiday, Martin Luther King Jr. Day. David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear (some might say it feels like it's gone again...).


I was living in an apartment complex in Cupertino. That complex backed up to the Tymshare building where I worked. It was faster to walk to work than it was to drive my car from the apartment parking lot to the Tymshare parking lot. To get to work I literally walked out the back gate of the complex grounds that opened into the Tymshare parking lot. I could go from my apartment to my cubicle on the second floor of the Tymshare building in less than 5 minutes. I could, and did, go home for lunch frequently. I liked my Tymshare job, I liked my boss, and I had made a number of friends at the company. Everything was going well with the possible exception that I would have preferred to live up in San Francisco.


My love life was rather hit and miss,some dates here and there but nothing much developing as a lasting relationship, just mostly onesy-twosy type dates. One of those dates was watching that final episode of M*A*S*H. The woman I'd gone out with the most during this period also worked at Tymshare and had picked me up in a club a bunch of us went to for drinks one Friday after work. As it turned out she also had another boyfriend that she was on and off again with. I kind of fit in during the “off” periods. It was clear that we were not going to be move past the dating phase so hence it didn't last long.


On the more notable side, I did have my worst date ever during this time. I met a woman at that same pub/club one Wednesday night. We got to talking. She said she loved punk music. She had never been to a punk club and was anxious to go to one. I knew of some so I told her I'd take her to a punk dance club I knew in SF. I don't remember the name now but it was a one word name like Eddie's although that wasn't it. I'd been to it recently and it was only four or five blocks from the Embarcadero Center which had free parking on Saturday nights. It'd be an easy in and easy out.


I picked my date up around 9 and we drove up to SF. We parked in the Embarcadero parking lot and walked up to the club. There was a small cover at the door. I paid it and we walked in. The club was a rather dark and dingy place. It had a little dance floor and punk music was being played. It had quite the punk attired crowd. We found a place to sit and I got us a drink. I ask my date if she would like to dance but she said maybe later. She did not look completely comfortable. So after a few songs I suggested we go outside and smoke a joint. She agreed. We walked a couple of blocks down the street to a quiet corner and lit up. Some guy walking down the street approached us and asked for a hit and I passed the joint to him. He took a couple and then passed it back. At that point there was just enough for us to have one more toke each. We then headed back to the club and the guy took the initiative to walk along with us. My date was very nervous. I tried to assure her the guy was OK. I told her I'd been in this area many times and that there is often street guys around this area. They are harmless and at most all they will do is try to hustle you. We got back to the club and he attempted to walk in with us but not having a stamp on his hand he was stopped. Once inside we finally danced to one or two songs but my date was still uneasy. Then she spotted the guy we had shared a joint with. He evidently either paid the cover or figured a way to get in. He was on the other side of the room but my date kind of freaked out so we left. This date had not gone well, in fact it was pretty bad, to put it mildly. She clearly was not comfortable in an urban punk club or with being around street people and I didn't exactly know what she expected of me but it clearly was time to call it a night as it was obvious that she just wanted to get out of there. We headed back to the Embarcadero parking lot to get my car so I could drive her back down the peninsular, about a 45 minute drive.


At the garage we walked up to the 3rd floor where I remember I'd parked my car but when we got to the spot I thought I'd parked my car was nowhere in sight. I naturally assumed I had the wrong floor. So we went up one more floor but no luck there either. Next we went down two. Still no car. Then we walked by every parking space on every floor of the entire garage. This, as you can imagine, took quite a bit of time. By this time my date was highly aggravated and I was not too happy myself. I started to look for a parking lot attendant to report a stolen car. I had to whiz bad and with the date already being a lost cause I was no longer worrying about what she thought of me. So when I couldn't find a rest room I ended up doing Jerry Seinfeld from the parking garage episode, relieving myself in a dark corner of the garage much to the annoyance of my date. I finally found an attendant. After listening to me he asked if I was sure I'd parked in this garage and not the other one. Confused I responded “There's two garages?” Of course there is, and so we headed to the other garage, right next door. We went to the 3rd floor and there was my car right where I left it.


We'd left the punk club almost 2 hours ago, so much for the “easy in and out”. We still had a 45 minute drive back to her place. My lovely date got in (she didn't have much of a choice) and I drove her back to her apartment. Let's just say it was a very quiet ride and it was a very long 45 minutes. When we got to her place she had one word for me; “Goodbye”. At least it wasn't of the 4 letter variety. She said it as she pulled the lever of the door to get out. She couldn't get out of my car and run to her apartment fast enough.


You will probably not be surprised to hear we never spoke again. I did see her at the club where we met initially a couple of times after that but she made sure to not come anywhere near me. Guess I can't blame her.


So to sum up, 1983 was not particularly a special year for me. I did go to my second large musical festival. I continued to work at Tymshare. I had some OK dates but most memorably I also had the worst date of my dating career. I wouldn't exactly call it a year to remember. 

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