Frieda and Mike
were together because they deserved each other more than
they deserved anyone else.That was one
other was because they both did Go.I knew Mike first.Then he
hooked up with Frieda who was German.Not one of those
blond-haired bimbo freudins you understand.Not her.She was
dark-headed, her eyebrows barely arched above her piercingblack
eyes, and far from being buxom, she was rather flat, but made up
for it by displaying hermore than perfect legs, wearing the
shortest skirts allowed by law. I, for one, liked 'em.
different.He wore glasses, and on top of his head was hair that
looked as if it had escaped from a mattress factory on fire, as
it was glowing- red and springy.He was my loading partner, or as
they say today my, "road dog".Then he met Frieda.When he met
someone who loved Go as much as he did it was a case of instant
attraction. They really hit it off.
There's one other
character I should introduce here; the Go.It was pretty pure, and
nowhere near that peanut-butter meth that stings and smells like
cat piss, no not at all. The only thing it reeked of was
quality.She did it for fun.He did it to keep up with her.They
were both going through life at a run. That's how it is with
Go.It was making its way into plenty of our stories back
They lived together
in a tiny house just off Park Boulevard.I could see if Mike was
home just by driving by, as he worked for Yellow Cab and there
was usually one parked there.He was an experienced driver, and
would rent a cab by the day or week, drive it to Hell and Back,
and return it in tatters.That was his system.In the day he'd roll
by my house with Frieda or a friend in the front seat and score
weed.At night I'd never see him.Night is when he was busy running
sailors from the naval base on North Island to downtown 'Dago to
satisfy their needs.There wasn't anything he couldn't hook you up
with.This made him enormously popular with our men in
uniform.When driving for Yellow he had both the transportation
and the connections, and charged for each, so he was making money
both ways and was doing pretty good.
He met Frieda like
I said, and didn't need another woman so he gave me the number of
a girl he'd been dating.It was all over between them when Frieda
became his priority. So I'd scrambled for his leftovers, his
"There's one thing
about Carol," he said, giving me her phone number.
"That's O.K. with
me," I replied innocently,"I like happy girls."
I took her out to
dinner.She was young, that was good, and rather well built.She
was blond, another plus, and was in shape, living the organic
lifestyle I figured, and as a result, didn't shave her legs.For
me that was a bit of a turn off.But I wasn't going to let that
We were eating in a
dim restaurant, and I was laying some lies on thick, when I
noticed she wasn't paying attention.She seemed to be looking off
to the side at something.The restaurant was almost dark.I turned
to see what or who was there; nothing.After dinner and in the car
I saw that she'd been paying attention all along.It's just that
her eyes were crossed.I wasn't going to let that stop me either.
So I took her home.
When we made
finally made it; it was in her loft, which was in a garage. You
had to climb a ladder to get her in the sack.Her mattress was
narrow, and open air was on either side. One false move too far
left or right and you would drop off onto the floor. You had to
be careful, and the safest thing to do was to simply stay on top
of her.But that wasn't the disturbing thing.The disturbing thing
was the laugh.
At the beginning it
was just a giggle.I'm all for an enthusiastic giggle here and
there.I never like it when a girl is silent.In fact silence
worries me more, like they take sex real serious or something.But
it didn't stop at that.In a few more seconds it had turned into a
bit of a laugh.
"Now fun is fun," I
thought, "but what's so funny?"
Then it turned into
whole laugh.This was followed by a yip yip yipping, and at the
end, she howled like a hyena.
"This is O.K." I
thought, "It's better to know where a girl's at then to be left
I'd always been
concerned with the happiness of my women.
When I split the
next morning she was drinking a smoothie made of raw eggs, ice
cream, protein powder and bee pollen.The last I saw her she was
running her hairy legs around the block, then crossing the
street, looking both ways, and with those eyes it must have been
The next day I saw
Mike, and when Frieda left the room I said,
"Well, I took Carol
out last night."
"Oh yeah," he
queried, "Did you laugh?"
"Yeah, 'I answered
with a smile, "I laughed."
From then on we
never referred to her as Carol again.That's when she became, "The
Laugher." and took an honored place in our temple of sexual
mythology. Swear to God.