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Revvin' up your engine,
listen to her howlin' roar
Metal under tension,
beggin' you to touch and go.

Highway To The Danger Zone, ride into the danger zone.
Kenny Loggins.

December 1984.

I got to know Erica over the next month, and while my desire for her increased, so did my mixed feelings.

While friendly, kind, and flirty to me, Erica was the kind of beautiful, popular high school girl who would not have given me the time of day, had she been in my class. Her conversations were filled with typical high school girl subjects, such as clothes, makeup, and what bitches the other pretty girls were. I couldn't help but feel... I don't know what exactly, but it bothered me that I still liked being around her.

Surprisingly, I found some of it fascinating, as I had no experience in her world. Seeing Erica's delight at my interest, made it all worthwhile to me. In return, she asked me endless questions about my life. I shared little of my exploits with past women, but told her funny stories about my cars, work, Nick, and my new friend Peter.

I began to realize she was a normal girl her age, and that the two previous high school girls I had seriously dated in my twenties, were exceptional. Both Karen and Rachel had liked discussing weightier matters with me, which I had found intellectually stimulating and bonding.

It doesn't matter. Erica is so much hotter...

While far from dull, I found Erica's lack of curiosity about the world disappointing. Along with her age and being her supervisor, it made me hesitant to fully respond to her subtle and not-so-subtle advances.

She's really not my type, but there's just something about her that stays on my mind...

Her work performance and ethic exceeded my expectations, while her fun, captivating personality made Erica popular with most of her female coworkers.

None of the women who liked Erica were very attractive. They seemed to worship her, and I was shocked to see them constantly complimenting her, bring her small gifts, and offering to do her favors. I never saw Erica take advantage of those women, and she seemed to be genuinely kind and sweet. Seeing that side of her warmed me, because I knew one day she would be my girlfriend,

or more...

and I wanted to be proud of her.

My first hint that I may have misread the situation, came when several of Erica's fans approached me to tell me how wonderful she is.

"A customer yelled at me, and Erica came over and made her stop..."

"Erica helped my daughter with her homework..."

"Erica gave me a ride home, when the buses weren't running..."

"Erica helped me pick a dress for a date. She has such good taste..."

"Most girls that beautiful are stuck up, but Erica is so nice..."

While the whole thing struck me as odd, I didn't detect anything but honesty from those women. As far as I could tell, they actually loved Erica. One day I asked one of her shy minions, "Yalda, why do you like Erica?"

The pimply faced, mustached, chubby cheeked, obese girl blushed and looked at her feet. I had made her uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Yalda. forget I asked."

With a tear in her eye, she said. "It's alright. Erica says I can trust you to be kind. She's..."

Oh fuck, what kind of drama is going to pour out of this emotional cauldron?

"...the only beautiful girl who's ever been nice to me. Girls like her at my school..."

More tears and a flash of anger lit up her bespectacled eyes. I had never seen her this way.

"...are mean to me. They call me all kinds of cruel names."

Pizza face, Chipmunk, Mario Brothers, Rolly-Polly. Did I miss any?

"I'm sorry Yalda. That must be awful."

Wahh wahh waah. Try starting your junior year without having reached puberty, so you are the smallest boy in your class. Most of your issues could be solved with eating better and exercising. Cry me a river, for fuck's sake...

Our shared misery brought no empathy or compassion from me, just resentment from being reminded of it. However, I admired Erica's ability to make Yalda feel worthwhile, a sentiment that would never have occurred to me. Like most men, a woman like Yalda with almost no sex appeal, warranted little of my consideration. I never had conversations with her beyond a greeting, or as work demanded.

In contrast, I knew many things about the attractive women in my life, because simply being around feminine beauty provides satisfaction for men. Any words exchanged are primarily for the purpose of maintaining proximity, and perhaps getting in their pants.

Yalda's words forced me to realize that I didn't inherently care about any girl's hobbies, hopes, or dreams. I would not value Erica at all, if she looked like Yalda. Instead, Erica's physical beauty gave great value to the rest of her. It struck me as unfair.

Yet, even with this knowledge, I knew nothing would change. I simply had no desire to interact with unattractive women, and saw no benefit to forcing myself. If that made me despicable, then so be it. I had done much worse.

Is Erica too good a woman for me?

Many attractive women over the years had not interested me, because being with them would mean having to drastically improve myself. As long as I didn't think about it too much, my low level of achievement, and questionable ethics didn't bother me too much. A high achieving woman, or a saintly one, would be a constant reminder of my shortcomings, so I seldom went out with them more than once.

I had stereotyped Erica as selfish and shallow, yet she had become a real friend to someone who I barely acknowledged.

Erica's a fucking hero...

Yalda continued, "It is awful. Those girls make me feel like shit. And even the ones who aren't mean, it's like I don't exist to them. Like Wendy."

Seeing my surprised face, she retreated, "I'm sorry, but it's true. I know you and her do it all the time, but she's kind of a snob. Erica's better looking than Wendy, and she's not that way at all."

I thought everyone loved Wendy. Am I missing something?

"No, Yalda. Wendy and I aren't..."

Her scoff said it all.

No point trying to convince her...

I only had one real date in high school, and just a few makeout sessions with different girls before I graduated, so I had no clue about young female status dynamics. As a boy, I had felt blessed that the jocks ignored me. Having one of them befriend me would have been weird, and even creepy. But Yalda apparently craved attention from popular, beautiful girls. It made no sense to me.

Every shred of good sense screamed at me to end the conversation.

Curiosity won. "Yalda, does anyone here... dislike Erica?"

She shuffled her feet. "Well, yes. But they are all jealous bitches. I hate those cunts."

Holy fuck, what have I stepped into?

She spat, "Maritza, Annette, Liza, and..."

Wendy. Don't say it...

All three were attractive women. Maritza could have been the Latina version of Erica, as they were about the same size and luscious shape. She had a much harder personality than Erica, probably from growing up in a completely different world.

Erica's parents lived in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in California, whereas Maritza came from a working class town. Having some familiarity with Mexican areas and women, I could guess that her striking beauty meant dealing with almost constant male harassment from a very young age. She was a tough nut to crack, and showed very little vulnerability, but I had never seen her be mean to anyone. She performed her job well, so I was fond of her, and publicly praised her often.

Maritza's pretty friend Annette was a different story. Vaguely Latina, the single mother's bubbly personality drew me to her. I had given her a few rides home in October, and she had invited me in every time, presumably for sex. Though extremely tempting, the twin factors of still being with Alice, and my wariness of single mothers, had led me to turn her down. My attraction to her was obvious, so Annette kept up a low-level, fun and friendly flirting.

Of course, every time I gave her a ride home, everyone thought I fucked her, and Wendy had expressed surprise when I denied it. "Really? I thought for sure you were cheating on Alice again."

Annette had not asked me for a ride for a few weeks, so she may have given up.

I could offer to take her home. I'm not with Alice anymore, so why not? I better use a condom...

However, it only slightly bothered me to discover Maritza and Annette disliked Erica. Perhaps they just didn't like white girls, like some other Latinas I had known. Liza, on the other hand...

"Yalda, Liza quit last month."

"Yeah, nobody liked her here, so she got another job. Good riddance, that slut thought she was soo perfect."

Shocked, I stammered, "No, Liza was..."

Nice. Really nice...

Petite, curvy, black-haired and green-eyed Liza had quietly gone through her workdays with kind words for everyone. Anna had hinted once that I should flirt with Liza, but I never felt that she was attracted to me.

She had been adored by staff and customers alike since I started back in August. However, in November, Liza began to show unhappiness at work, and at the end of the month, had tearfully requested that I cash her out. The custom was to ask employees why felt they need to quit. Often it had everything to do with their personal situations, but it was good to know if we had failed them in some way. Liza's tears, along with not really caring, had kept me silent while I calculated her pay, and wrote a check.

After awkwardly wishing her well, Liza had said, "I can't stand it here anymore. The work is fine, and you are wonderful, but I hate coming into... this. It keeps getting worse, ever since Erica got here. Everyone seems to hate me now."

I had uncomfortably offered, "I'm sorry Liza, I'll miss you."

She had responded with a half smile. "Be careful with Erica, she's... just be careful. Umm. If you want to get together to talk about it, or anything else, call me."

Liza had kissed my cheek, then left me standing in the office, completely confused. I tried to call her two years later, but she had moved out of her apartment. In 1984, phone numbers were tied to residences, unless a fee was paid to transfer the number. I checked the yellow pages, but either she had moved out of the area, had married, or paid to have her number unlisted.

Did Erica do something to Liza? Is she a villain instead of a hero?

Many women considered me to be very kind, and yet others had borne the brunt of my cruelty. If I could be both cruel and kind, perhaps Erica was both hero and villain. Perhaps it was merely because I wanted to get into her pants, but I chose to think the best of her. After all, pretty girls could afford to be taken down a notch socially, because at the end of the day, they will still be hot.

Far from making me dislike her, the attractive women's complaints about Erica brought relief.

Erica is still a better person than me. But she has her moral flaws too. Cool...

After Yalda left me with as many questions than answers, I had an additional worry. As second in charge, if there was large scale conflict with my employees, it was my responsibility to do something,

Fuck that, I'm not getting into a catfight!

At a rare family gathering the next week, I explained the issue to my sister. We appeared almost identical, but our shared looks created a much more attractive woman than a man. Indeed, her beauty and athleticism had made her very popular in high school, two years ahead of me.

We had often been mistaken for sisters when younger, as my slim build, hairless face, and feminine features, joined my long hair to prompt the confusion. Only since I had turned twenty one, had my appearance changed from somewhat girly to ambiguously male.

My sister advised me, "Those girls will sort it out themselves. Stay out of it. Unless one is your girlfriend., then you should... Oh, that's the real problem, isn't it? Who is she?"

"No, Erica isn't my girlfriend, but she probably will be."

My sister was a very practical woman, even though her own life was in chaos at that time. "She either is, or she isn't. If she is, you need to take her side."

Fifteen years later, when she and my wife had a disagreement, I recalled her lesson, and backed my wife. My sister sulked about it, but came around a week later. "I'll always be your sister, but Olivia doesn't have to be your wife."

I went to work the next day, inspired by a decisive plan for dealing with the drama...

Fuck that, I'm staying out of it!

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