CUMBERLAND FARMS EDUCATION
So, after Na-Na Johnson saves me from certain death at the hands of the notorious David White and The Orange Face brothers, perceiving me as being “strong” because of my mustache, he leaves me with the comment that he wants to know all about it. Uh-oh! What am I gonna do now?! I know nothing about this stuff! I don’t know the first thing! What will I tell him when he asks me?!
An epiphany. Cumberland Farms sells Playboy - and Penthouse Forum magazines, too! They’re there in the back corner of the store, right above the Monster Truck and Soldier of Fortune magazines. Yes! Hassan used to let me look at them when there was nobody in the store. Jim Whitford is a real dick about it though, as usual. He never even lets you get near them. Says you have to be eighteen to look at them. That’s the law. Fucking Dudley Doright. I’ll get him, though. I’ll find a way. I’ll enlist Skinny’s help. He’ll enjoy that. We’ve hardly been up there at all lately, ever since we had started the ‘healthy’ stealing at the A&P a while back. When we walk in, Jim Whitford is not happy to see us again, a pained expression rushes to his face.
This time the store is empty though, and with no customers distracting him, he folds his arms and zeroes in on us, observing our every move. We head to the magazine section and start perusing. Sports Illustrated and The Sporting News is what we’re looking at now, but our focus is on the Playboys and Penthouse issues. This time though, time he stands right over us. Damn. This is going to be a bit more difficult.
“Are you boys going to buy something - or just stand here and read? This is not study hall, you know.”
“No, I-I think we’re going to buy this Sports Illustrated magazine, right, Skinny?”
“Yeah, Sparky Lyle is on the cover.”
We are just biding our time, trying to stall, hoping some customer would come in to distract his attention. As the minutes tick away though, our morale begins to flag. Just as it appears that all hope is lost, roly-poly Mrs. Acker tramps in, being pulled by her little hot dog, Fritz, who is yapping loudly and incessantly. Saved! This is perfect. She always comes in with a laundry list of maladies and ailments, and would pester you for hours with insane medical questions. As if somebody who works at Cumberland Farms would know the answers.
Jim Whitford has to stand there and be polite, answering her insistent questions. Like, which worked better - Pepto Bismo, or Phillips Milk of Magnesia? He is fucked. He knows it, too. You could see him start to sweat as he tries to keep one eye on us - and answer all her rambling questions, too. Needless to say, it can’t be done. The second he turns away, we each slip a small Penthouse Forum under our jackets, Skinny slipping his in easily, me fumbling with it for a few seconds, before finally sealing the deal.
“Oh, Mr. Whitford, we’ve decided not to purchase anything tonight. Goodnight!”
He grimaces. As we stroll into the parking lot, Skinny and I congratulate each other. Whitford destroyed again! Yesss!
That night, I stay up till like 5 o’clock in the morning, absorbing every detail of what I read in that magazine. The letters in this Penthouse Forum are amazing. I had seen tons of pictures before, especially since we scored all those Penthouse mags in the junk that time. I have never scoured the articles with such studiousness, though, as I do in this session. I can’t believe the stuff I am reading! Apparently, I am one of the few guys in America who had not been seduced by their babysitters, when they were 12 years old. Obviously, I’m missing out on a whole secret world here. Pangs of jealousy and remorse pound my core. I have been severely deprived my whole life. This whole phenomenon is called - Menage-a-trois. Apparently, women of all ages (babysitters included) are just dying to do this. I had heard the word before, but for some reason, had always thought it was a French word that had something to do with lemon meringue pie, or something. I learn all about it… what an education I am getting from these Forum articles and letters! By the end of the night, I have convinced even myself that I have actually performed these acts. I am ready for anything Na-Na would ask me now, and I feel a lot more confident about seeing Esperanza again.