As a brief follow up to this post:
As I wrote, when I was in high school and an aspiring architect(ural student), I’d often spend time wandering through the homes under construction just to the west of our house. One afternoon, while I was checking out one house at the end of that block, I heard a truck pull up outside.
That in itself was kind of odd. It was a contractor with a truck full of aluminum windows. He started unloading them, bringing his first load into the house I was standing in. I guess I startled him when he walked in and this kid standing there. I hastily explained why I was there, “I’m going to be an architect,” and he nodded. As I was walking out the front door he said, “Hey, you wanna make some money? I’ve got a bunch of these windows to bring in.”
Now in the context of what he was doing—as odd as it was that he was there afterhours—that may seem like an innocuous question under the circumstances, but the vibe in that he was giving off in that unfinished house was anything but innocent—even to a still mostly naive seventeen year old. I don’t remember him being bad looking, and if I’d had a few more years under my belt I might’ve taken him up on what he was obviously offering, but as it was, I made some excuse about having to get home for dinner, and as they say, skedaddled home.
Even though I knew exactly what I wanted at that young age, he was not going to be my first.
That would come a few years later in my dorm room at the University of Arizona…
(to be continued)
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