A less religious friend brought up how lucky we both had been in our lives, having skirted real damage and monetary loss due to idiocy.
I brought up that if he had a god, his god was one of a bizarre sense of humor, much like a celestial Jeff Lebowski. That comical overseer sent angels to look after him, and one of those angels was named “Camaro Steve”.
Camaro Steve was a townie/non college dude who showed up when things were stupid and coming down to the wire. He would swoop down out of nowhere, letting us hitch a ride when we got stuck hoofing it back during the summer time when one of our adventures went stupid.
The irony is that Camaro Steve thought nothing of it. He happened to have a girlfriend that lived five houses down from us.
It always seemed that we were getting stuck somewhere or getting in a jam. Not having wheels at the time, things were dim. But Camaro Steve seemed to be on the same path, needing to run to the store down the street for beer.
The dude never accepted a dime from us. He was one cool cat, think Metallica’s …And Justice For All roadie awesome. He looked like it and he had decent music playing on his stereo at all times. It was if a chariot swooped down and did us a solid.
Camaro Steve made an appearance a few times in our lives, the last being around the time we got driver’s licenses. We still talk about him, thinking that he is around in our hometown, giving poor bastard’s a ride to where they need to be.
I can hear AC/DC playing over the hill…Camaro Steve is on the way to his girlfriend’s bungalow again.