Table Talk

Table Talk  

Off and on during my high school and college summers I worked at Astoria Park Apartments (over where the old Sears use to be, Sun Set Center). I was a painter. I’ve painted every apartment out there, some several times. I could paint those walls in my sleep. I got good at it. I could paint an apartment in a few hours while the job log would credit me with a days work. So I had time on my hands. I’d sit around and think. Think about life, life at Palo Duro, sports, and oh yeah… dating. Well, there was this girl, I’ll not name her to keep her dignity in place but she held thoughts in my mind since the 4th grade. 

Remember back to when you were ages 16 thru 21, especially if you are male. The blood flows, the testosterone surges, you do things, you just do them, things might not be logical or appropriate, but you do them, thinking nothing of the consequences (sometimes those consequences can come back to haunt you). So there I was, sitting in those freshly painted furnished apartments, usually around the dining room table, waiting for my next work assignment. I had cans of paint in front of me, paint brushes, drop cloths etc. My thoughts turned to action. 

I’m thinking It was during the summer 1969, that I figured out how I would simply express my infatuation to the one who occupies so much of my thoughts. I’d scribble a short verse or phrase on the underside of every dining room table I encounter, a little love note to her, kinda like leaving my mark. And, when I was painting an upstairs bathroom, I’d etch a similar note inside the built-in dirty clothes hamper wall, no one would know, who would care, a perfect demonstration between me and God. Time passed, apartment after apartment came and went. As I was doing it, it seemed like no big deal, leaving my little legacy of love in paint. Seems like I painted 30 or 40 apartments that summer. 

Time marches on. In 1975 my summer job life was over. All my various jobs including my Astoria antics were behind me and forgotten. I had graduated college and mailed 70 resumes to companies over the US inquiring about a job. I got a few replies, most notable was one to go to Alaska to work on the Alaskan Pipeline, one from the Gates Tire Co in Denver, and another in San Antonio with USAA. USAA made me the kindest offer. They’d fly me to San Antonio for an interview and put me up for a night. It was a no brainer, I hopped on a plane for the first time in my life and took off. I was enchanted with San Antonio, interviewed, then took the job. Before moving to San Antonio, I paid my respects to all my friends including my working buddies at Astoria. We were all good friends and I hated to part from them. 

Over a year later, maybe the summer of 1977, can’t really pinpoint it, I finally got some vacation time built up from my SA job. I returned to Amarillo, made the rounds, and I particularly wanted to go by Astoria and refresh my friendships. I called one of my friends and sure enough, he was still working there. We agreed to meet at the apartments and go out to lunch afterward. He chuckled while he was on the phone, but didn’t disclose why, kinda strange. I drove up for our lunch appointment and was immediately greeted by my burly friend George (later worked for police SWAT team). We exchanged pleasantries and started walking around chatting about old times and my life in SA. We approached a new building I had not seen before. They were using it for furniture storage. If you didn’t have furniture, Astoria would rent you theirs. As we approached the fairly large new warehouse my old boss (former Navy boxer) joined us. He and George smiled at each other and then as if it were planned, they both asked me if I ever had a girlfriend with initials CAS. I smiled and immediately blurted out “well yes, definitely, how did you know?”. They both busted out laughing uncontrollably, “What? I asked, sheeesh”. Boss said, come on in here, we want to show you something. We continued to walk up to the building, boss took his key and proceeded to open the door. They were still chuckling and smiling, but I hadn’t caught on. We walked in, there was furniture everywhere, end tables, chairs, head boards, and up on the walls and hanging from the ceiling were dining room tables, maybe 20 of them, we pivoted around and saw nothing but the undersides of dining room tables… all with the note that read… “Doug loves CAS”. 
sheeesh

 Doug Lightfoot