Posted by Mark on July 14, 2007, 17:26:39 Darla was a brunette so attractive that I still remember her pretty face even though high school girls generally didn't excite me when I was in third grade. She had the 80's "big hair" thing going on too, looking like a potential stand-in for Heart or The Bangles or one those girl bands from the era. I lived at a country place a couple miles outside of town and the town kids got off the bus before I did. As a nine-year-old kid, I sat in the front half of the bus while the high schoolers sat near the back, so as the town kids got dropped off, I would look at the line of departing students make their way towards the front door, and almost every day saw Darla extract a Marlboro red from her pack and dangle it unlit from her lips as she walked past me. Within one or two steps after exiting the bus, she brought that cigarette to life with her lighter. This routine played out nearly every day, and I would watch in awe from my school bus window. It was the first time I ever remember being sexually excited by a girl. And although my early elementary fantasies always included girls in my class smoking, it never produced the specific "excitement" that seeing Darla light up did. Even when I was home in the evening, I would think of Darla smoking and get turned on. Sadly, the family moved away the following year, but those few sweet months of her presence in town was all it took to help solidify the creation of the hard-core smoking fetisher that Mark would become. To provide a little context for how much of a hayseed enclave this town is, the Scandinavian-influenced community proclaims itself the "lutefisk capital of North America" (and for those not familiar, lutefisk is an absolutely disgusting fish native to Scandinavia), where there are lutefisk caricatures painted on the water towers, carved into trees in the city park, and dotted along lampposts downtown. They've even made the national news for this goofy eccentricity and the annual lutefisk-eating festival. Farming is the primary economic engine of the aging and fairly depressed region. Anyway, I was driving into town nearly six years ago and pulled into the local gas station to take a closer look at my map to find the best town to stop at for the evening. As I studied the map, I was distracted by the incoming noise of a minivan engine pulling into the gas station. I looked up to see the minivan pulling to a parking stall two stalls to my left, and saw a feminine arm wielding a cigarette hanging out the passenger side window. I didn't see the girl from that angle, but could tell from my split-second glimpse from when she pulled in that she was young and cute. The door opened and out stepped this angellic 14-15ish blonde with a cute ponytail....the very embodiment of the stereotypical "farmer's daughter" who looked like a shoo-in for the county's next "Dairy Princess" and/or the leader of the local Future Farmers of America chapter in her high school....yet there she was, holding a half-smoked cork-filter cigarette in her hand. After stepping out, she stretched her youthful body while dangling the cigarette from her lips. The stretch accentuated her perky young breasts and thin feminine bodily features, but it was hard not to look at that cigarette dangling from her lips. And as if things weren't hot enough, the back door of the minivan opened and out stepped a nonsmoking younger brother about 10 or 11 whose big sister proceeded to playfully ruffle his hair with the free hand not holding her cigarette (poor kid doesn't stand a chance of avoiding the smoking fetish). Mother soon made an appearance from the driver's seat, and wasn't half bad herself with that cork filter in her hand. Both mother and daughter took final drags from their cigarettes before heading into the gas station and concluding my best mother-daughter sighting of all-time. At least here in the Midwest, small town convenience stores often make pizzas, and it was clear that this family was here to pick one up. For that reason, I waited forever for them to leave, but as I sat, I peered up to the inside of the minivan to find two packs of cigarettes (one Camel and one Marlboro red) stacked on top of each other lying on the dash. It was mind-blowingly hot to realize that these were the respective packs of both mother and daughter smokers. The family came outside with a hot pizza and drove off without lighting up again, but suffice it to say that I never go through Madison, Minnesota, without making a quick detour to this gas station to see if I can reinvent the wheel again.
64.12.116.139
#6--This is the great original sighting, occurring in the spring of 1987 when I was a third grade boy. Some context: my official "hometown" is a tiny rural enclave in southern Minnesota with 288 people according to the most recent census. A new addition to the community back in the mid-1980s was Angie, a 17-year-old high school girl who reportedly had some mental health issues. Angie was unattractive, but on several occasions eluded to her kid sister Darla, who was a year younger and, according to Angie, was smoking hot. Darla was "away", most likely at reform school, but Angie kept telling us she would be moving to town in the near future. Most of us kids on the school bus were skeptical that the gene pool that produced Angie could produce some major league babe, but we were proven wrong when Darla moved to town for a few short months in early 1987.
#5--I'm a road trip junkie, navigating Minnesota and neighboring states on weekend safaris in the summer. As much as I enjoy these journeys, they rarely yield memorable sightings since I spend most of the time in the car. The one major exception to that rule was this epic monster from July 2001 in the small farm town of Madison, Minnesota, (population 1,700) near the South Dakota border.
Message Thread:
« Back to thread