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In May 1975 I gave my girlfriend Michelle Hanley a tour of my hometown of The Bronx. We were both sophomores at the City College of New York and we had a Wednesday for ourselves. We decided to take her car for the trip back and forth and for part of the excursion within the borough; I would drive because I knew my way around and she could be free for sightseeing. I went out by subway to Long Island City on a sunny morning to meet her around eleven AM.She met me outside her house and I noticed she had dressed up a bit for the occasion. She was a fairly tall girl with lanky medium-brown hair and steel-rimmed glasses. What was most noticeable today was that she had a cute little short skirt, a gray plaid item I had never seen before. She complemented that with white ankle socks and sneakers.As we stood on the sidewalk I commented, “I like that new skirt. It makes me feel like I should be carrying your books home from school.”She put on a tongue-in-cheek coy act, holding her hands together and looking a touch shy, “You should be carrying my books, I mean we’ve been going steady for a while now.” A “while now” meant since last October, and I wasn’t sure how “going steady” would be defined in the present decade. We had since the beginning done whatever two horny college students could imagine doing.I played along a bit more, “There’s a malt shop up there I could take you to if you wish.” That wasn’t an idle boast; there was a kind of luncheonette/ice cream parlor that had been serving generations of dating youth since at least the 1940s. Actually, the old-fashioned soda fountain setup survived in quite a number of places throughout the city.She said, “That would be swell, but don’t think that with just an ice-cream soda you can start getting fresh with me.” That was so silly we both laughed at it.I drove her 1971 Coronet north and crossed the Triborough Bridge. We chatted a bit about the scenery, especially the impressive Hell Gate Bridge parallel to our route. Yakacık escort bayan We affectionately touched other, I squeezing her knee and she rubbing my shoulder. Soon after we entered the borough we drove under about ten blocks of the Third Avenue El that hadn’t been demolished yet. The trestle ended abruptly; I realized I would miss its 19th Century charms, its wooden stations and platforms.Then I drove west into an unusual landscape of steep ridges and sharp valleys covered with dense blocks of apartment houses. I had grown up in this environment and still thought that this was the standard by which to assess the rest of the world. After we went through my old street and had seen my old schools and other landmarks, I drove north to Fordham Road.We parked in a municipal garage on Jerome Avenue and then went for a stroll on Fordham Road, a major crosstown shopping street. One of the things that I wanted to show her were the movie theaters that still were an important part of the life of the street. Unlike today’s multiplexes, they each had a distinctive look and personality. There was the tiny Capri, little more than a storefront, the neoclassical Fordham, and the Art Deco Valentine.A block down on the west side of the aptly-named Grand Concourse was the Loew’s Paradise, the grandest Bronx theater of them all. The front of the building went up several stories above street level.We stood there for a few minutes as I reminisced about my eighteen-year-old self and my high school graduation that had taken place in there almost two years earlier. I described being on this sidewalk and seeing my hopeless crush, Margot for one of the last times. It was hopeless in that I had been seated next to her in a class for all of senior year and we never could find much to say to each other.Michelle knew about much of this already, “The human mind is amazing, I mean how could you waste so much time and energy on someone who wasn’t Escort Atalar interested? What did she look like that day?””Instead of her usual blue jeans, she was wearing a short white dress with white stockings and white shoes.””So virginal. Was she really one?””I don’t know, she sometimes dropped hints that she wasn’t, I mean I overheard her talking to other people.””Dropped hints, huh? Let me clue you in, girls can make up as many stories as boys to cover up the virginity thing. It ain’t 1957 anymore when maybe they did the opposite.” I had a couple of friends she knew about who had admitted that their tales of sexual exploits were fabrications or, to put it more plainly, lies.I then went on recalling my movie palace experiences. “They had almost 4,000 seats in there and on a weekday afternoon, there would be about fifteen customers. I remember seeing Serpico and The New Centurions here.”She looked up at the marquee, “I see it’s a triplex now.””Yeah, it became a duplex in ’73 and just recently it went to three.””But there still must be a lot of room in there, and it’s only one o’clock.”I think I knew what she was getting at although I still asked, “So what?””That means we can go in and fool around a bit, like people do at drive-ins.””Okay, but there’s no car in there.”She came closer and put her arms around my shoulders, “Come on, let’s see what we can get away with. The Passion Pit, that’s what they used to call drive-ins.””Have you ever done this before?””No, but I’ve always wanted to try it. So what do you want to see?””What difference does that make?”Always practical, she said, “Well, in case it doesn’t work out we can simply watch the movie.”She stepped back and I think what sold me on this proposal was the sight of her bare, strong legs. She ice-skated in the winter (which I could also do to some degree) and played tennis in the summer (which I was completely inept at). She saw me examining her and she grabbed her Kadıköy escort skirt and swirled it back and forth.We checked the signs in the box office window and saw that The Day of the Locust would start in fifteen minutes. That happened to be a film I did want to see anyway. After I bought the tickets I asked her, “What exactly are we going to do here again?””We’ll assess the situation and then figure it out.” I suspected that she already knew more than she told me but I was used to that by now.The ornate lobby was done in a “Venetian” style unlike anything seen in the actual Venice. Beyond that, the vast auditorium had been divided into three parts. The balcony had been sealed off to become its own unit, while the main floor had been divided into two halls by a new wall down the middle. Our showing was going to be in the unit on the left side. We picked seats in the left rear corner, three rows from the back. Two of the old ornate walls formed the angle behind us.There were only a handful of other customers there, perhaps five or six, and they were all many rows closer to the front. I supposed there weren’t a lot of Nathanael West fans in the Bronx. Some orchestral music was playing on the sound system at a moderate volume. Nevertheless, we kept our voices down when we talked during the few minutes before the start.Michelle looked down at her ankle socks and said, “I feel like one of those bobby-soxers that used to go to the Paramount. Didn’t they throw their underpants at the stage sometimes?””That was for Tom Jones, not Sinatra, as far as I know.””Did you think I’m wearing panties now?”I knew she wasn’t the kind to walk around the streets without them but I said, “I guess I’ll have to find out soon, won’t I?””Maybe I don’t have any, which means you have a very bad girl on your hands.””Well, I can’t spank you in here, that’s for sure.”The idea of that was very exciting, however. It would make an interesting role-play, the stern usher and the wayward female patron. Maybe it would be a tipsy girl who wouldn’t shut up during the show. It sounded promising but I knew Michelle would need some kind of plausible location for a game like that. It wouldn’t be today, of course, but if anyone could find the right place Michelle would be the one to do it.

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