We just watched a old remake of The Member of The Wedding (Carson McCullers novel and play and two movies) I thought I was getting the one with Julie Harris, but it was the remake, which wasn't bad. The end of this version Frankie runs away and ends up back at the bar/restaurant. It made me think of one night in Bloomington Indiana when I was 15 maybe? The little group of us guys that worked at the A & W Drive-In would do this little number where each of us would tell our parents that we were staying over at one of the other guy's house and then we'd all go down south of town at a place called Shit Creek and camp out and drink and smoke dope. I can't recall exactly what happened, but myself and Steve Shertzer found ourselves downtown with none of the other two or three and we both had told our parents lies and we both had no alcohol and no dope and it was too late to try to go home. I lived 10 miles north of town and he lived 5 miles south of town. I remember we were trying to get a college student to buy us some Vodka, but we had no luck. And somehow we ended up in the alley behind the city jail and the guys up in the cells were talking to to us. We had money and we getting tired so we checked into a sleazy hotel and shared a room and a bed. I wonder now what the desk clerk thought. There were no questions asked. I was 6'5 or 6'6 by then and everyone thought I was older. We slept with our clothes on, because we were so weirded out by the circumstance.
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