The Mattress

I had just graduated high school. I had just gotten breast implants just before graduation. I was starting college in the fall. I was 18 and damn well old enough. I was in love, you know 18-year old love - but for someone a decade older than me! I thought I was in love. I thought "love" was when you defied your parents. Found THE worst guy my mom could think of (yes, I regret this decision; hindsight is ALWAYS 20/20!). His name was Henri. Yes with an "I" and not a "Y". Long story short I was a naïve 18 year old. But who is truly "mature" by 18 and has it "all together" in life?

Graduation had just happened. Grad-night at Disneyland was over. It was time to move out. Was I ready? Yes and no. But, hey, I was an adult now, right? I can make my own decisions. If I wanted to move in with a man ten years my senior, I could, because it was legal, right? I was 18. Was it the smartest thing to do? No way. There was fear mixed with what-could-be and having a home I can make my own was appealing. I loved to cook and organize a home. I was young, though. Now, going out on my own AND going to college, it was a big change I did not even understand the ramifications of.

Feeling the FREEDOM of being an adult, there I was moving out all my white wicker furniture, bed and a few boxes from my mom's place. All the things SHE paid for. At that moment, all I could think about the furniture and belongings was, "they are MINE". I felt at that very moment I "owned" everything I owned.

My best friend, Heather, and my future roommate with my fiancé Henri. I knew Heather since fourth grade (but she'll tell you she didn't like me till 7th grade!) and we were both ready to welcome adulthood and be on our "own", to be the adults we were so ready to be. There was an extra room at the other end of the house I was renting, ready for her. Everything was set up and we were so excited to finally be moving out of our parent's houses and into our own! All we could think of was decorating our new place and how we'd cohabitate. We discussed work schedules and school schedules, since I was going to college and Heather was going to be a manager at a pet store. We thought we had life figured out. Oh boy...

It was mid-June and my friend, Heather and I, were moving into our own place, our first place of being adults. No parents to rule us. We were on our own.

Heather had just gotten a small, purple pick-up truck for graduation, so we decided to use her truck for moving purposes. I mean, what else are trucks for?

At this point, we have made several trips to our new place with smaller loads in her truck. Music blaring. It was awesome! The feeling of freedom in our bones and soul! Nothing could stop us! Or so we thought.

In one of the trips to the new place of adulthood we ran into an itsy-bitsy problem.

The mattress.

I had a full-sized mattress and Heather had a small pick-up truck with no tie-downs. I mean, a full-size mattress is just a tiny bit wider than the bed of a small pick-up truck, right?

So, we did what any teenager would. Drove real slow. Hoping against hope nothing in the back of her truck would fall out, meaning the mattress.

We drove real slow. Below or just at the speed limit.

At first.

Then we decided it was awfully quiet and a little music would help. She turned on the radio. Volume slowly creeping up.

After awhile we picked up speed without realizing it. Singing along with the songs, raising the volume as our singing-egos kicked in. And a car pulled up beside us, honking his horn. Yelling out his window, "you lost a mattress back there!" (pointing to the road behind us both). Well, what did you know? Her bed of her truck was mattress-less. All that was left was the box spring we could cram in the bottom of the bed, but no mattress!

We made a U-turn quickly.

But, apparently, not fast enough.

We were in the Barrio. The toughest Mexican/Hispanic area of the area! It was not "white girl" territory, let's just say that! I say this because in a moment I am about to see the strangest thing ever.

A few moments after turning around, her truck was now in downtown Colton, California, back-tracking to where we "left" the mattress.

I point, "there it is, Heather!" just as we see a real beautiful low-rider heading towards my mattress. He sees it and has enough time to move into next lane but decides to gun it (presses on the gas!). I guess in that moment he must have thought he could just somehow either go-through or jump over the mattress, but sadly it WAS a low-rider.

One of those cool low-riders that participate in shows. Had a gold plaque in the back near where the back window is located.

Next thing we see is a low-rider stuck on top of a lonely mattress in the street. Wheels - a -turnin! Stuck.

Cotton flying everywhere! Springs getting stuck in the low-rider's wheels. He is now a low-rider on top of a mattress with nowhere he can go! He keeps trying to get out of it, but only worsens his luck, digging those wheels deeper into springs and cotton. Whole street, all four lanes, were filled with cotton fibers (wind was blowing pretty good) and one lane filled with one pissed off low-rider driver! Thank goodness it all happened in front of a liquor store. Guy needed a drink after our hijinks, I am sure.

Us two white girls high-tailed it outta there - FAST! Made another U-turn straight out of there!

What mattress? Whose mattress? I don't know anything. I plead the fifth.