The extinguisher years

I always named my frenz cars from the time they started buying them. Exeter, named after both the English heavy cruiser that took on Graf Spee off Montevideo and the town in England where my favourite sex scene in movie history took place- the hotel in Exeter in 'French Leuit. Woman'. Exeter (car) was Moho's first, and it featured a window only entrance to the navigator seat. Eventually, one of the other doors got the same condition.

I used to sit navigator because of my fucking loud voice. We used to drive around the neighbourhood and, well, yell @ people. Not "we're gonna kick yr ass" stuff, but crazy non-sensical stuff where bizarro was the prized component.

I'm struggling with a name for the car. It's been a year. Something military, as I envision the car as a warship. I've thought about naming it Peter Strasser. The Cobb would be good. Well, its not a big deal. I'll see again next year.

Cars to pass our time had its highest achievement during The Extinguisher Years. Frenz would steal fire extinguishers from wherever. We would fill them up with water and pump in the extreme pressure by using a gas station's air pump. We would patrol the hood, looking escecially for girls but letting loose @ anyone who we could get to. We'd often pull over to the side and ask for directions. People were friendly and they would want to help us. In the car we'd wait until we couldn't, then shoot the extinguishers into the people. We'd know where certain girls would hang out- this front porch on this street, or porch in that neighbourhood- and patrol that area. Once we blasted the Burger King takeout window. Seems cruel now, but it also seems funny.

Years later, it still comes back. Early this century on one morning old lover Afrika Korps was driving us to work @ our respective schools as I was relating the above story to her. She turned and said:

You know, when I was young, these guys asked us for directions and then hit us with all of these extinguishers.

-Where? In front of that old gen. merchadise store on 57th and Kedzie.

-When? I was 14.

A quick mental calculation, double checked:
-Yeah, that was us.

Those battletanks, once serving my youth so formidably, are rusting somewhere. I guess.