Galahad, Heracles and Keith Partridge

Part 2 of the Northline saga

Beware the beautiful, studly Tiger Beat-esque heartthrob lookalikes. More often than not they carry deep senses of entitlement along with the sure knowledge, if only in their own minds, that others will happily do for them.

The morning (OK early afternoon) after our tryst I was trying to sort out how to get rid of him and struggling mightily with that. Like most young women, I wasn’t as sure of myself and nowhere near as direct as the situation needed. I expect I figured he’d just get that he should vanish by, dunno, the set of my shoulders? the absence of giggles and rapt interest whenever he so much as farted? My saying that I wanted to spend the evening alone?

Ah...no, none of these brilliant methods worked. So convinced, was he, of the spell he cast with his charisma, beauty and self imagined slick grifteryness that he failed to grasp that I was utterly, soundly, and wholly unimpressed.

That evening he invited a bunch of his pals to join us at the hotel for a post work party. Great, now I was stuck with him AND his loser, hanger on buddies.

While strolling back to the midway the following morning, 'Cassidy' cast me a long and seemingly meaningful glance. He tells me, in a careful, designing manner, that back in Denver, he’d been a pimp. My very first thought was ‘what...is that supposed to impress me? wrong-o asswipe!’ my next was ‘oh shit, I think that might have been a job notification.’ I don’t recall what I replied -- I think I was just too stunned.

We arrived at the lot and I made a break for the relative safety of my joint. While blowing up my 450 balloons to start the work day, I was feeling fairly panicked with an extra large side of fear as I tried to figure out how to permanently ditch 'Cassidy' and his band of low lifes.

As luck, astronomically major luck, would have it, the affable, funny, lovely young man from the ring toss joint next door stopped by to say hello. He saw that I was agitated and and asked what the story was. I told him and he, like Galahad on a charger, came up with the grand escape scheme.

After the show closed that night, 'Cassidy' came by to tell me that we’d be having another big party in the room -- I’d anticipated and feared this.  Red, my ring toss Galahad, was right there and said to 'Cassidy' "Great. Looking forward to it. I’ve got a pick up -- I can drive us all over."  After a quick stop at the liquor store, 'Cassidy’s' minions climbed into the back truck bed. Red, 'Cassidy' and I climbed into the front cab with Red making sure I was sitting in the middle, between the two of them.  As we got to the front door of the hotel, Red told the boys to jump out -- he’d go find a parking spot. They leapt out, toting the cases of beer and bags of munchies. Cassidy slid out his door and proprietarily reached for my hand just as Red stomped on the gas. Hard. Con molto brio.

I swear there was dust flying out from the rear wheels. Maybe that was just my impression as we flew out -- gone, baby, happily/ecstatically gone. I gazed into the rear view mirror to see if I could catch Cassidy’s reaction. He just looked confused and surprised.

As we exited that parking lot at full on Dukes of Hazard speed I began to laugh. Best escape EVER!

Yeah, certainly I was not thrilled about needing and wanting the Heraclean rescue but I was sure as hell happy to get it. My goal after this was to become, to be my own Galahad, my own Heracles.