I had this friend when I was growing up who was a little wild and uncontrollable. She took all sorts of risks that her girlfriends didn't understand. While the other girls wanted sit around and talk about boy bands and crushes, this friend wanted to hang out with the boys, be part of their world and do the fun things that they did. She wanted to drink beer with them, swear like a they did and hopefully manage a real hook up with whichever one she was crushing on at the moment.
The norm for this group of kids was for the boys and girls to gather on a particular corner in the neighborhood every Friday and Saturday night and hang out in a massive gang. About a year into this, my friend started getting calls during the week from they guys asking her to hang out, without the rest of the girls. The boys knew that they could count on her to be down for anything and that the other girls would likely disapprove of most of the things that they'd want to do. Things like stealing cars, for example.
One of the boys in the group was very quiet. His name was Pete and he spoke in single syllables, most of which were mumbled. But underneath it all, Pete was probably a genius. He had charted out a schedule of the best dates and times to steal his older brother and parent's cars. He had written down what time he should steal the car, from where and exactly what time he should have it back. One of these perfect times and places was when his parents were in church on Wednesday nights.
Pete's parents were deeply religious. His mom was a throwback to the fifties housewife in look, but without the sunny demeanor. She wore an apron and heels, every day. If you tried to engage her in conversation, she seemed completely empty headed and out of touch with the modern world, like some misplaced, zoned out June Cleaver. Her husband was a New York City cop, who legend had it, had been disarmed by a criminal and beaten with his own billy club, rendering him. . . a little "off" in the personality department. As such, they were not big socializers within the neighborhood. But in church? They were the belles of the ball. And they loved them some Jesus.
Pete's parent's church was an all night social event. Being raised catholic and being accustomed to the Sunday, one hour mass and dash, my friend could not understand what they did at church for three hours on a Wednesday night. But apparently they were busy with sermon, followed by bible study class and a cheese and crackers mixer after that which would keep them there from 7 -10. And they did this three times a week -Wednesday, Friday and Sunday.
Pete's parents had given up on making the kids attend with them all three times per week, so this made Wednesday night a great car stealing night. And my friend was into it. WAY into it.
Part 2 - Pete's Driving School (or) Taking Off Three Sideviews at a Clip - Tomorrow