underage tender_square "don't you remember that, when i was in the car with johnny when we lived on george and i took it down the street?" mom said. grandma stared blankly. "when?" "when i was thirteen." "whose car?" "your boyfriend tony's. the two of you were sitting on the porch. he used to let me take it up and down the driveway." grandma closed her eyes and laughed heartily picturing tony. "yeah, this one time i actually backed the car out of the driveway—i had never done that before—and i looked at you and you waved at me and said, 'go on' as a joke. i gave you a look like 'okay' and drove down the block and turned around. tony was pissed!" mom dropped her voice down a couple of octaves " 'you're never getting in my car again!' " "tony?" "yes!" mom exclaimed. "he used to be our landlord, remember? his wife tried to come and beat you up." "she did beat me up! she slapped me in the face!" at this point i interjected needing more information. "grandma didn't know tony was married; he said he was separated. he bought the house and we rented it from it. one day his wife showed up, and she was very pregnant, and she went after grandma trying to yank her hair. i had to stand between them to break it up," mom said. "we sure had some interesting times, didn't we, ma?" 230109 ... raze i was always paranoid about being found out. but no one ever got carded there. that was part of the appeal. one night someone remembered the place used to be a dance club a million years ago and threw on some kylie minogue. people who stank of bad sex and worse words made their bodies move to the metronomic beat. one of them locked eyes with me. it didn't mean anything. i bought a cheap bottle of peach schnapps and tried to huff it at home. nothing happened. but before that, i went back to his place to get away from all the noise. we watched a girl our age sing her latest single live in a locked room. it was half a step too low. she couldn't keep her voice in tune. "she looks scared," he said. maybe she was. maybe we all were. 230110 what's it to you? who go blather from