February 23, 2003

Part VI - My SLO "Girlfriend" - Donny Laing 1952-1985

I'm not sure where Donny and Yvette actually first met, but I'm confident that she was immediately attracted to my old friend and  he saw that as a duel opportunity. 

He, of course, had Jules as a girlfriend, but she was conveniently in Santa Barbara at school during the week.  And with Jules, there was a zero-tolerance policy with any competition.  Don's perpetually bruised upper arm served as evidence that her policy was strictly enforced.  A simple glance in the wrong direction would evoke instant punishment.

Yvette was one of hundreds of Pacific Coast migrating kids who did whatever she had to merely to survive.  The migration along the Pacific was straightforward:  head south for the winter and maybe up to Seattle for the summer and have as much fun as you can in the process.

Mostly she worked as a waitress when she had to work.  But as I found out early, she did not care for structured work at all.  Her life was geared to "party."

She drove one of those VW "squarebacks" -- I can't recall what they were actually called and you just don't see them on the road anymore.  It was a faded rusty orange with a cracked windshield and bad muffler.  All her possessions were stuffed inside, sleeping bag included, with hardly room for a passenger.

She preferred not to drive anyway, as she claimed to have too many warrants out on her.  This proved to be true as Donny later bailed her out of SLO county jail.  He was there for her from start to finish. The VW was simply storage, housing if needed and a get-out-of-town vehicle if it was time to move on.

When I got the call in LA from Donny to get back to SLO right away, it was not so much for my sake as it was to get him out of a potential bind.  He had just both hired Yvette to work in his boatyard entourage AND invited her to stay at the bungalow.  Had Jules known this at the time, far more than his upper arm would have been bruised.

I left Palos Verdes late Sunday morning after reviewing the classifieds in the Times.  That newspaper was my only viable link to returning to a normal job -- something I'm not sure that I wanted, but knew I would eventually need.  I took the 405 through the South Bay and drove to the 101 in the Valley which was much faster than Pac Coast Highway.

I arrived about six that evening and the party of two was already in full swing.  There was no plan in Don's mind of an introduction, first and second date and maybe see if there's a mutual interest.  Don simply said, to my horror, " 'Vette, this is Mike, and he's my best friend.  While you're staying with us, he's going to take care of you and you're going to take care of him."  All Yvette had to say, as if she knew this was coming was "Cool -- Mike, what kind of beer do you drink?"

I'm sure in Don's mind, he had solved the "couple issue."  When Jules was around and Crazy Dan and Ralph were over with their girl friends, I could now be at ease -- like that even remotely bothered me.  Well Don's intentions were good --  he housed and hired a drifter, found his buddy a girl and brought his clients some cheap labor to handle a bunch of low-skilled jobs that would otherwise cost them far more.

By eleven that night and numerous beers later, I got to know 'Vette well enough to find, although streetwise and tough, she also had a brain and a plan.  She had been through hell as a kid and was going to do something great with her life in spite of her past.

 She sensed immediately that I was "no jerk" and although lacking the charismatic appeal of Donny, by late evening I was categorized as a "cool guy."  She was intrigued that I lived in LA and worked on the space shuttle  -- a claim none of the migrating coastal males could hardly make or even make up.

It proved to be a fun and relaxing evening until Don shut off the stereo and blurted out that he was going to bed.  A moment of panic struck us both.  I reassured her that she was "safe" here tonight.  Yet her initial attraction was to Donny and when I got back from the bathroom she had snuck into Donny's bedroom.  Don, of course, was instantly asleep -- after a night of drinking, he had that ability!

Just as well, I thought, as neither of us was ready for this -- although being male, I was disappointed.  Finally just drifting off to sleep myself, I am startled awake by a booming yell, "GET OUT OF HERE -- JULES MIGHT COME HOME!"

Like a young puppy caught being bad, the young blonde obediently drifts back into my room.  Nothing is said but I put my arms around her and it feels just wonderful.  Sure the thought of sex occurred to me, and perhaps both of us.  But a promise was made and I had already graduated from potential jerk to "cool guy" in just a few hours.  Why screw that up?  So we just drifted off to sleep together.

That morning I awoke restful and content, but with no Yvette by my side.  Did she sneak back to Donny's room?   A moment later I hear a call from the kitchen,  "Come on guys -- get up.  I made breakfast and I want to get to work." 

For the balance of my stay in San Luis Obispo, Yvette was mine.  Why, I still can't figure out.  Donny's "couple situation" was solved and she fit in with our odd crowd and proved to be a great worker.   Jules was not even upset with Yvette staying at the house, although they never became close friends.

We were certainly not in love but had great fun being together.  I recall thinking that she was a bit too wild as potential wife material anyway.  It didn't matter -- we were living for the moment and Don had fixed both of our current life problems.  That's a role he loved to play.

The guys at the boatyard loved having her around and were quite vocal in there regrets that she went home with me every night.  She could handle any crude comment from them with a jaw-dropping comeback, if so required.

My concerns over my aerospace career melted away.  It was proving to be the perfect summer.