Ah, to be young and in love!

There’s a commercial on TV for an “over-50” dating site; the couple is steaming the windows in their car when a cop comes over.  Next you see the officer walking away chuckling.  

Well, this reminds me of an incident when I was married.  It was many years ago, we were young, and if not in love, in lust.  We had been driving a beat-up, second-hand, Impala for quite a while and finally were able to trade up to a better used car.  

I deferred to my then husband, G, for the selection.  He opted for a Buick Riviera which in retrospect I think really looked like a pimp car, but at that time, early 70’s, we were both young and foolish enough to think it grand.

After having the car for a few days we were heading home in it and had the notion that we needed to “christen” it!  

It was a weekday, both of us had work the following day, we were in Brooklyn, and not having grown up there, knew of no “parking” sites.  We lived not far from Marine Park and thought that could be a good choice.  It wasn’t the summer, a coolish night, so we figured finding an isolated spot on the beach would be easy.

And it was.  We drove onto the sandy area and stopped when we thought we were far enough to not be noticed.  Lights off, engine off, doors lock, we jumped into the back seat and began the Christening ritual.  

After not too long and fortunately before any garments had been removed, a flashlight was shining through the windows.  We got back into the front seats and demurely opened the window.  There was no conversation – just a request for both of our ids and the car registration.  These were quietly and respectfully handed over.

The officer stepped back from the window and reviewed the documents.  With a very amused smirk, he queried, “you both have the same last name, and um you’re married?”  Naively and quite proudly we chimed, “oh, yes.”  His next question was” why are you here?”  Still naively and proudly we explained about wanting to christen our new car.  That did it for him and his smirk broke into a full guffaw.

Apologetically he explained that we were on conservation land and could not stay here, rather had to move along.  

Relieved at only being told this, we turned the car on and prepared to head out.  Except, this conservation land was very soft sand and instead of moving forward we simply sunk the tires into it.

At that time G was the auto mechanic in a local body shop.  So, with the cop’s assistance (this was in those olden days, before cell phones) he got a call into the shop to send a tow truck to get us out of the sand and onto pavement.  

Very quickly it came.  Once again there was the litany of questions about what and why we were where we were.  Before we could try to offer a different explanation, the cop told all.  So by the end of the evening the car had not been christened and our escapade was known not only to our local constabulary, but also to all of G’s co-workers.

This incident did not deter us.  The car did finally get christened.  That weekend we took a drive to where I grew up and found a still remote and viable spot!