"Dig" Doug stared at the shelves and shelves of Atari cartridges, and took a big sip of his extra-large Mountain Dew.
He thought about popping in one of the games and giving it a whirl. But, sadly, he had tired of pretty much every one.
He was feeling a bit glum on this otherwise sunny summer day.
The slightly-overweight 25-year-old was always a cutup around friends and even the loyal customers of Westcliff Hobbies.
But inside, he craved more.
He thought by this time he'd have designed his own video game, maybe even his own game system.
He'd be one of the next big names in video games...
So he thought.
Instead, he managed a hobby slash video game store on the upper level of The Temple Mall.
Sure, it brought its own level of satisfaction.
But it was on slow days like this one that Doug wondered what else lie ahead for him in life.
He rolled down the gate out front so he could go grab a quick bite for his break. His two slices from Vinny's Pizza were mediocre at best.
"What's up, Doug?" Len, from the nearby sneaker store shouted to him.
Doug managed a smile.
When he got back to the store, he looked at the schedule, saw that he would be by himself until 4 p.m.
"Parker Brothers is in later," he noticed, talking aloud to himself, not exactly a rarity.
Doug needed - desperately needed - to have a good time. A party...a wild night...anything...
Maybe this summer would provide that for him.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the mall, "Parker Brothers" was meeting an old friend.
*************
Bookstore signings often don't pack in the big crowds.
And this one at Kimble Books drew a humble gathering.
Nevertheless, the author was all smiles, signing everything that was placed in front of her.
One particular fan was both eager and polite. He waited patiently in the line of six or seven, and slowly approached the small table.
The author had her head down.
"Ms. Dorshten, would you please sign my copy of 'Revisiting the Alamo?'" asked the young gentlemen.
"Absolu-," the author began, then stopped abruptly, shocked to see who had come to see her.
"Dick!?" she said. "What are you doing here?"
She stood up from the small, tilted table and gave the young man a hug.
"Eh, I was bored. Heard you were over here today signing books," he said.
"Dick, I...I don't understand. I thought you were at Baylor?
"Oh, duh, it's summertime," she quickly remembered, correcting herself. "Authors are in their own little world, huh? So...how are you?"
She tried to maintain her conversation with Dick while waving another guest forward.
"I've been working at Krendy Krafts...A LOT. And Westcliff Hobbies," he said.
"Uh-uh, uh-huh," she nodded, signing and listening at the same time.
Dick was about to speak again but was interrupted.
"The seminar is next week - yes. At Kansas University," Phyllis went on, chatting with the young woman who had her book signed.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Darla," Phyllis said to her.
"Dick, she's a teacher, all the way from Kansas," Phyllis informed. "Sweet as could be. She's here to visit relatives. But, anyhow..."
The bookstore's owner, a plump, middle-aged gal who liked to run a tight ship, let Phyllis know the signings would be over in five minutes.
Phyllis, seeing no one else was in line, decided to close up shop early.
The author began packing her things up in small, cardboard boxes. Dick's eyes wandered over to the sports section, spotting a paperback he wouldn't mind reading - Staubach: First Down and Lifetime to Go...
"You wanna be my mule?" Phyllis politely asked of the young man.
He look puzzled for a second.
"And carry these things to the car?" she finished.
"Sure," he said, jumping at the chance.
*************
Dick felt like he had taken on the role of a personal assistant, carrying two boxes of books and papers while Phyllis gracefully walked alongside him.
The mall was pretty empty that afternoon, as most people were out enjoying the summertime sun.
When they got to Phyllis' car, a brand new, ruby-red Trans-Am, Dick could tell her choice of vehicle had changed but not the manner in which she kept it.
Phyllis was still a book hoarder, as several paperbacks and hardbacks packed the crowded backseat.
Dick managed to get the two boxes on the passenger seat and down on the floor below.
"Tons of books, I see," Dick said as Phyllis took one last sip of her iced tea from Peggy's Pretzels.
"Yep, yep. Ooo, Dick, that reminds me," she said, putting her empty cup in the beverage holder.
Phyllis started to giggle.
"I...have a surprise for you," she managed, as she went sifting through the piles of books, looking for one in particular. "Why don't you close your eyes?"
Dick, wondering what she had in store for him, did as requested.
He heard Phyllis laugh again, this time more noticeably.
"Okay, open 'em," she politely requested.
When he did, he saw Phyllis was handing him a book of some sort.
"Fais le toi-même?" he asked, reading the title as best he could.
"That's close enough," Phyllis replied. "It's French. But don't worry, the book is translated to English."
When he opened the paperback and perused its contents, Dick started to get an idea what it was about, made possible by some candid photos.
"Oh...wow," he said, jumping back a bit, his face flushing red.
She giggled again.
"Hey, ever try?" she prodded.
"Uhhhh," he stammered.
"Don't be embarrassed," she assured him. "Ninety six percent of men said they have DREAMED about being able to pull that off (laugh)."
He continued to thumb through the book's contents, seeing that more candid photos and discussion filled the pages.
"Leave it to the French, huh? I was trying to accumulate some of their books on sexuality for a seminar I'm attending," Phyllis explained. "And I couldn't pass this one up."
Dick finally closed the book and held it alongside him.
"I'll have to read it," he promised. "RIght now, I'm reading a book by Richard Rodgers."
"I see, I see," Phyllis said. "Summer reading can be awfully fun."
The elegantly-dressed Ms. Dorshten looked at her designer watch and sat down into the driver's seat.
"Well, I better be going," the author said to him. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"
Dick nodded with a smile.
"Thanks for the book!" he said with gusto.
"Bye, Dick," she said endearingly, and with a giggle.
*************
"That is," Dick said long and drawn out, as he fixed his name tag to his polo shirt, "the worst looking owl I have ever seen."
"Macrame's not easy!" Dolores yelled back at him, albeit with an adorable grin. "Ugh, I knew that class would be hard."
The two were in the backroom gearing up for the day, just minutes before opening.
Dolores had brought in her latest project from a macrame class she was doing for fun.
"I wanted to at least make something that my boyfriend could hang up in his apartment, but this is definitely not it," Dolores went on, holding up the odd-looking owl, her first attempt.
Phyllis and Doris had joined the two in the back room.
"Okay, so who's going over to Mugs to get our morning supply?" Krendy asked, speaking of coffee.
"I'll go," Dick gladly said.
"Oh, Dick, I want you on register - I have to have a quick meeting in five with Dolores and Doris about our sales coming up," Krendy suggested.
Dolores volunteered to make the walk over to Muggs.
As Doris and Dick began to put on their aprons, Doris felt the need to make small talk.
"Hey, did Krendy tell you about tomorrow?" she asked with a big, teasing grin.
"No, what's up?" he asked.
"Come here," she urged, having him lean in closer.
"She's doing a first-person story on a trip to a nudist camp," Doris could hardly get out, gushing with excitement. "She was going to ask you to go with her."
Dick's mind began to race with all kinds of thoughts. His heart pounded out of his chest.
Was he FINALLY going to get to see those grand tetons of Krendy's after all these years?
"She's writing once a week for the Temple Telegram," Doris went on, tying her apron on. "It was HER idea to do this one. The nudist camp is out near Belton Lake. Ever hear of it?"
Dick could hardly hold a conversation right now, but he tried.
"Uh, yeah. I heard of it," he managed. "I heard it was pretty small, isolated."
"It is," Doris said, sounding kind of dejected that it wasn't a bigger deal 'round these parts. "It's just a small piece of land, right on the lake. But it's open to the public.
"Krendy's doing a story because it's sort of started to gain some notoriety."
"You up for it, Dick?" Krendy asked, indirectly eavesdropping on their conversation as she grabbed some accounting papers from her files.
Dick knew one part of him in particular was definitely "up for it."
"Uh, yeah, sure," he answered, his voice quivering with anticipation.
*************
Krendy's Chrysler Lebaron approached slowly and pulled up out front, hugging the curb as it came to a stop.
Dick Parker was waiting, locking the door behind him and jogging briskly to the passenger door.
"Hi, Dick, hold on a sec, hon," she said as she removed a couple issues of the Telegram from the passenger seat, along with an empty styrofoam carton from a McDonald's fish filet (yesterday's lunch).
As he sat down, Dick immediately began to groove out to the music playing on Krendy's car stereo.
"The 13th Floor Elevators," the driver informed with a big grin. "Hon, they're from Austin! You believe that?"
"Wild," Dick answered.
"They were, um," Krendy began, as she did a K-turn. "Dick, they were the first band to refer to their music as psychedelic rock."
