Belton, Texas, 1989
Cactus Sports Bar was the busiest place on a Sunday and owner of the hottest wings west of the Mississippi.
It was pregame, the sounds of Ton Loc's 'Funky Cold Medina' rocking the bar.
"Hey Parker, we call this the 'Dwight Clark shelf.' You have to reach up way high," Randy the bartender teased.
"Oh that is so cruel," Linda sympathized.
"Who is this gorgeous lass?" asked Randy as he mozied on up to Dick and his female companion.
"This is my wife's best friend, Linda," Dick answered. "She's...ugh...a Niners fan..."
"Really?" Randy asked with tremendous enthusiasm. "Well here, my darling, this one's on the house."
"She's also married, Randy," Dick informed.
Linda enjoyed the attention nonetheless.
"Hey, Parker, knock knock," the bartender persisted with his razzing.
"Okay, I'll bite. Who's there?" Dick grumbled.
"Owen," he answered.
"Yeah, Owen who?" Dick fired back.
"Oh and eight,"
An eruption of cheers and jeers filled the bar.
"Damn Oiler fans," Dick mused.
"I don't get it," Linda chimed in.
"What the hell have you guys EVER won?" Dick argued back.
"A game...this year!" Chuck replied.
"W-w-wait, the Cowboys haven't won a game?" Linda asked, disbelievingly.
"No," Dick admitted.
"Oh Gawd. Seriously? Has that ever happened? Has a team ever been oh and...8?" she asked, unable to keep
from laughing.
"Yeah, the '76 Buccaneers - ," he began but was cut off.
"We're gonna win our FOURTH Super Bowl," Linda boasted.
"The Dwight Clark re-enactment you carried out earlier? I was in college when they won that game," Linda said.
Burgers, wings and ribs soon were being digested at a record rate.
"This is a cool spot," Linda said to her drinking buddy for the day.
"Yeah, me and Craig come here once in a while."
Dick and Linda took in the early games that afternoon and then decided to head home.
They returned to the Parker homestead, with Dick greeting his lovely wife with a kiss.
The two women sat comfortably, waiting for their drinks.
For it was the same routine every first Sunday of each month, with Dick playing gracious host.
He returned wearing an apron, and ONLY an apron. Soon, even that would be discarded.
Gwen and Linda smiled their approval.
"I do regret my darling husband could not be here," Linda said, the two women clanging their glasses, "but will return to duty next month."
"I still laugh at the name though," Linda said. "Temple TEA Time..."
"I know, right? Who needs tea when you have wine?"
Dick Parker was never closer to Heaven.
He was a successful architect, he had a beautiful, caring wife with a baby on the way, and a social circle that kept growing.
And he was still living out those rockin' CFNM fantasies of his.
And just for good measure, the Cowboys did manage to win later that night on Sunday Night Football, defeating the rival Redskins.
Dick Parker had never been happier.
But back in the summer of 1982, happiness seemed so far away...
*************
Temple, Texas
June, 1982
"Damn it, Bussett, did you eat all the cheese curls?" howled Brandon.
Everyone was packed into Deborah Krendall's wreck room, all to watch the premiere of the "Rock the Casbah" video by The Clash.
"And they filmed this in Austin?" Krendy asked.
"Yes! We've been there, to that exact street," Maddy mused.
"Where is that armadillo going?" Krendy laughed.
Krendy got into the spirit of things that evening, wearing a "Super Bowl or Bust" t-shirt, and she definitely filled it out. She was well-endowed and well-spoken.
Dick, taking part in the festivities but a bit withdrawn, at least tried to make conversation.
"How's Krendy Krafts going?" he asked.
He had to repeat his question over the roar of the crowd, in particular Barney Bussett's bad singing.
"The Shareef don't like it...
ROCK THE CASBAH! ROCK THE CASBAH!
The Shareef don't like it...
ROCK THE CASBAH! ROCK THE CASBAH!" he belted out.
"Oh, Dick, I'm sorry, hon, what did you say?" the delightful Deb Krendall asked.
"How's the store?"
"You mean, how are the STORES?" she politely corrected him.
"I can't belive you're a chain," he said charmingly.
"Krendy Krafts is flourishing," she raved. "Sales are up this quarter, despite it being summer..."
"I did make one booboo," she admitted. "Every store has an entire bushel of Krendy Krafts tape measures that did NOT sell. Boy oh boy, they went over like a lead baloon."
"They're not buying them?" Dick asked.
"No! We've sold a few but...They're so cute too, with the Krendy Krafts logo right on them," she raved.
"Houston Oilers?!" Brendan teased, noticing what team Krendy's shirt was supporting. All he noticed before was how well she filled it out.
"I've always been an Oilers fan. Dick knows that," she winked at him. "Earl Campbell is my favorite. Ya know he has 36-inch thighs (laugh)??? Can you imagine. He's like a bowling ball..."
"Yeah but that's about all you got," Brandon argued.
When the food and booz ran out, the party began to slowly vacate Deb's packed wreck room.
"Dick, we haven't seen you," Deb said as she hugged her young friend tight. "Geez, Carrie and Janet thought you ran and hid after that Cowboys' game..."
"Oh please don't remind me," he said with a wry smile.
"How's Baylor?" she persisted.
"It's...okay," he said.
"Architecture classes? Going well?" she posed as one partygoer after another exited Deb's and retreated to their cars.
"Yeah...to be honest they're kinda boring," he admitted.
"Well...keep an open mind," she said. "Look at me, I was a teacher for years before I found my calling."
They embraced.
"Dick, please, don't be a stranger, okay?" she told him.
*************
Dick drove his dented, 1976 Chrysler Cordoba slowly down Six Flags Lane, making sure he didn't pass Adriatico's Bed and Breakfast.
"God, I haven't seen Carrie in almost three years," he said aloud to himself, hardly believing it himself.