The summer of 1972.
Seal Beach south of LA.
My college friend and I were staying at his cousin’s beach house. We liked drinking in the dive bar on the PCH. Fish swan underneath a sheet of glass. We thought that was cool. Both of us were 19.
Two nights before out departure for San Francisco Nick and I approached the Fish Bar.
A Porsche convertible was parked in front with the keys in ignition.
Both of us thought the same thing.
“Take me.”
We exchanged a glance and Nick said, “I drive.”
“You got out. I drive in.”
Someplace on I5 Nick hit 125.
I topped out at 115 on the return.
Twenty minutes later we parked the car in the same spot and walked into the bar.
“Anyone leave their keys in a Porsche?” Nick dangled the keys.
No one said yes, but everyone looked guilty.
We had a couple of beers and left the keys back in the ignition. It was someone else time to joyride that night.