Bubba and I were literally unseperable in our early years. The only way we could've been closer was if we shared a spleen or something. The important thing you need to know about bubba is that he's slow. I don't mean he's dimwitted or dumb. Not in any way at all. He's just one of those special people who moves at his own pace and nothing you or I or anyone else does will EVER change that. The most endearing thing about bubba was his love to make people laugh. The bubba we all knew back then was all about having a good time. So what this meant to us was that if we came up with a stupid idea, bubba was the one who would usually carry it out.
I could tell you a HUNDRED bubba stories. I could fill pages up until we both had manuscript flying from our rear ends. But I think that I"ll start with one of my favorites (and feel free to share this story with whoever you want...bubba deserves to be famous).
Let us travel back now...baaaaaack in time. The year is 1987. It was the summer, no school. My friends and I were having our summer break, our senior high school year waiting for us in the (what seemed) far off September. We were cruising the fast lanes and bright lights of New Holland, PA; population 16,000 (including the Amish and large farm animals). Bubba was driving, I was in the passenger seat. In the back seat were my friends Sonny and Travis. Both were great at instigating Bubba into some wrong-doings and both were very good at denying it after the fact. I still remember this like it was yesterday. It was pouring. And when I say pouring, it was as if the sky opened up and buckets were being dumped. The rain hammered so hard on the roof that is sounded like a constant rumble rather than the machine gun pitter patter. We'd "borrowed" a couple six packs of Rolling Rock from my step dad and drove around town blasting "Master of Puppets" and looking for something to do.
And as luck would have it, we thought of something.
"Heeeeyyyy," I said to bubba, as if struck with a life-altering idea. "I dare you to run through the Pensupreme in your underwear!" The Pensupreme was Eastern Lancaster County's version of a 7-Eleven or a Wawa or your run of the mill convenience store. Back before the Indians cornered the market and, seemingly overnight, swiped up all the mini markets for as far as the eye could see.
"No way man, naked," travis shouted from the backseat. One thing about travis was he had two volume settings. Scream and silent. Don't be fooled that he was yelling over the music. Had I turned it down, the volume would've been the same. It was as if, at an early age, he stood next to a grenade as it went off and now he had to shout to speak over the hum in his ears.
"Five bucks," Sonny added. Five bucks meant he'd offer bubba a five if he pulled it off. He was a kid of few words. He almost spoke in code, unless he had some hugely exaggerated tale to tell...then you couldn't shut the guy up. Sonny had tales of Hells Angels and UFOs and ghosts haunting his closet...but again, another story.
"No freakin' way, man," Bubba replied, laughing and coughing. He had a habit of choking on his own saliva when he got himself worked up. I can remember times when we'd wait til he had a mouthful of food to make him laugh, just to see the food come out his nose.
"Awww c'mon," I urged. "I'll throw in five too."
"ME TOO," Travis hollered from the backseat, knowing full-well that he didn't have a dime on him.
"No way am I gonna run through that place in naked," Bubba shot back, "what if someone sees me?"
"Who's gonna see you?" I asked
"What about..." Bubba started.
"YEAH, DON"T BE A PUSSY," Travis interrupted.
"but..."
"It'll be funny!!" I added
"but..."
"You could wear a bag over your head," I pushed.
"but..."
"PUSSY!!"
"hey...wait..."
"Twenty bucks," Sonny added.
TWENTY BUCKS!!! Those two words made the rest of us gasp...even Travis. Twenty dollars was pretty good money for someone working at Pizza Hut. I looked at Bubba and I could see the wheels turning. The rain was still thundering on the roof. We all held our breath, knowing he was contemplating whether the act was worth the payoff. It was one of those moments where you're holding your breath in anticipation. Little butterflies fluttered in our stomachs at the idea of bubba pulling off this prank. We all had images of him sprinting through the Pensupreme with his rod and tackle flopping wildly and we had to hold back the giggles.
"So I'll get thirty bucks if I do this?" he asked.
"Thirty," we all said in unison. We were a chorus of evil all singing the same song.
"I'm not going in there naked," He added firmly. "And I'm wearing a damn bag."
Luckily, there was a run-of-the-mill brown grocery sack on the floor of Bubba's car. Bubba asked for it as if he were a surgeon asking for his next utensil. There was a look of determination in his eyes that almost scared me for a second. For that moment, he was Evil Kinevil, Fonzie, and David Copperfield all rolled into one. And the best part was, he was crazier than all three of them put together.
By this time we were parked in the deserted church parking lot directly across from the Pensupreme. Bubba and I had swapped places. I was now in the drivers seat. Bubba, stripped to his fruit of the looms, in the passenger seat. Travis had torn out eye holes in the bag for Bubba to see through. We all sat silent, staring through the rain-streaked windshield at the glowing target of our boredom inspired prank.
The store had two entrances, one on the right side of the building and the other on the front. The entire front and right side was glass so you could see into most of the interior. Inside we could see the older mail clerk doing some sort of work at the cash register. There was one car outfront signifying that at least one customer was inside the store.
"Okay, once that car leaves, we roll," I said in a gruff, low voice. I didn't take my eyes off the Pensupreme.
"Holy shit," Travis sang quietly from the backseat. His voice quivered and bubbled, unable to hide his excitement, as if he had to let little spurts out or he'd explode. "holyshitholyshit....holeeeee sheeeyot!" Sonny simply chuckled a sinister laugh under his breath.
"Thirty bucks?" Bubba asked, as if to say, You bastards are gonna pay me right??
Before I could answer, Travis resumed his deafening volume level. "THE CAR IS LEAVING," he shouted, thrusting a pointed finger between bubba and I. And he was right. The brake lights of the customers car gleamed red like bug eyes. Then the reverse lights flicked on and the car began to roll away from the store.
"Okay, here's the plan," I said as I started bubba's car. "We pull up on the side. You go in the side door, run around the counter and out the front door. We'll pick you up on the other side and we'll haul balls outta there."
"You're not gonna leave me, wit?" Paranoia was setting in. It was as normal a feeling to bubba as feeling cold on a winter day. But the truth of the matter was that all four of us were on the verge of firing hershey bars into our shorts. But that didn't matter. We came this far and we had to finish it.
"Don't talk crazy," I urged, "just do what i said and it will be fine." At this point we were already rolling out of the church lot and crossing the street towards the market.
"Besides," i added, "there's nobody around and this is totally harmless. I bet weirder shit happens to these guys on the night shift." Famous last words. I looked over to Bubba to gauge his reaction only to find that he'd already donned the grocery sack with its crooked, almost evil torn out eye holes. Suddenly I was sitting next to the naked masked comic. He was sitting there with one hand on his lap and the other elbow propped up on the window sill of the car door. Was he trying to look non-chalant? I thought so and almost burst out laughing. Here I was in a car full of loony tunes and I couldn't have been happier!
I whipped the car into the parking lot, pulling up to the convenient store's side entrance. Travis and Sonny suddenly ducked down behind the seats. For a split second I nearly bailed. Nearly aborted our covert op. But instead I stepped on the brakes and yelled "GO!" The passenger door flew open and a gust of wind and rain burst through the gap. Being summer, the wind was warm and the rain was not uncomfortable but still I thought better him than me. In a split second the door slammed shut again and I watched in amazement as bubba, bag on his head weaing nothing but skivvies, bolted bare foot across the wet cement. This was the moment of truth. The moment that heroes...no...legends are made. This was the stuff they write movies about...where the boys end up getting the hot cheerleaders and the triumphant soundtrack music blares from the screen.
As Bubba threw open the door to the Pensupreme I dont' remember saying much of anything coherent. The car was filled with grunts and crows and whoo-hoo's as we realized he was going through with it. He grabbed the handle and nearly tossed the door off its hinges and jumped inside, dripping wet. The bag on his head was dark brown on top from the rain. His white underwear was stuck to his ass. He was now in that area of no return. He was standing on the brink of something great and he was ready to go for it. He was...he wasn't moving.
Bubba stepped inside the convenience store and stopped dead in his tracks. He froze.
Stay tuned for part 2...
posted by Michael Witmer @ Wednesday, February 11, 2004
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