Rita Zorn: First it was a glance, then a stick of gum
We kept sneaking glances at each other.
He was cute. He had light brown, wavy hair. He reminded me of someone I went to high school with.
We were both at the Detroit Eastern Market on August 20, 1974 with our employers. I was with the Donald Fleig family. He was with the Tracy Gaynier family. Our trucks were parked across from each other.
My long, dark brown hair fell way down my backside then. Larry wandered over to say hello. He pulled out a pack of Juicy Fruit gum and offered me a stick. We talked for a bit before the market got busy. I could tell he was on the quiet side so I did most of the talking.
When I got home, I told mom I had met a cute boy at market. That cute boy and I just celebrated anniversary number 44 last week. But I am getting ahead of myself.
The next time I went to market I looked for Larry. He wasn't there but he had asked his friend to get my phone number if I was. I was, he did, and Larry still has that ancient folded piece of paper with my scribbled phone number on it.
We started talking on the phone shortly after we met. Well, I did most of the talking.
Larry is the oldest of seven children. It was difficult to talk on a land line phone back then. You were tethered and limited to how far the phone cord would stretch. When the television was on and his younger siblings were rabble rousing in the background; it was hard for him to concentrate or hear.
Later on, I found out that some of the inability to 'concentrate' may have been from sneaking glances at the beautiful cast of Charlie's Angels, especially Farrah Fawcett. Hey, I can't blame the guy. Not many could fill out a red one-piece swimsuit like Farrah did. After watching her fierce and very public battle with cancer, I fell in love with her, too. Farrah was so much more than a pretty face. And she certainly did not deserve the darts I threw at her poster.
I was lucky. Our land line phone cord was long enough to stretch into the bathroom. It offered some privacy and freedom from distractions. Unless of course someone was in need of the commode.
What any of us teens would have given for our own personal cell phones while dating! Heck, some of us lived through the party line era. Talk about invasion of privacy!
Through interrupted and slow conversation, I learned that Larry lived in LaSalle. I lived in Petersburg. When we met in Detroit, I had no idea how close we actually lived to each other. I had never heard of LaSalle. It could have been in Timbuktu for all I knew. Turns out we were a mere 15 miles apart.
Larry was smitten. Several times he rode his bicycle to my house to visit. I still think he was a little crazy to ride that distance. I have always felt flattered he did.
One day, Larry talked one of the Gaynier boys into riding his bicycle with him to my house. He left out the fact it was 15 miles one way. A lesser young man might have told his friend off when the 'just a little farther', turned into a 'whole lot farther' than the young man would have agreed to ride.
My dad saved the day and maybe a friendship, too. When it came time for them to leave, dad offered to throw their bikes in the back of his truck and drive them home. Relief and gratitude flooded the young man's face.
Sometimes friendship has its limits. If it had been me, I might have ditched my bike and my friend and hitchhiked home.
Rita Zorn is a wife, mother, grandmother and lifetime Monroe County resident. She can be reached at 7.noniez@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Monroe News: Rita Zorn: First it was a glance, then a stick of gum
