My story really starts about ten years ago, I had just walked into Johnson’s Lumber yard to pick up a few things I needed to finish up a house I was building. I needed some cabinet screws, another pair of cabinet hinges, a couple of finish saw blades and a few other things and as I stepped into their showroom, there was a very good-looking young couple talking to Tony and Fred, two of the countermen. I heard Tony say, “You could get ABC or Delaney to build you one but you would probably end up with a piece of junk. If I wanted a quality house built, I’d get Carl Bullock to do it,” which made my chest swell, since I’m Carl Bullock. Just then Fred said, “I have to agree with Tony. Hell, in fact, there the son-of-a-gun is now. Why don’t you go over and talk to him?” as he pointed to me.
They quickly headed over my way as I got out my wallet to get out one of my cards. The guy kept getting larger as he approached me and I found myself looking up at this very muscular guy in an expensive looking sportscoat, slacks and high-priced shoes. He was at least 6’5″ and very chiseled. He looked straight out of GQ. Then I got a look at the woman with him and I had to swallow hard. If he was out of GQ, then she was out of Penthouse. I mean her strawberry blond hair, blue eyes, perfect probably 38 D cup breasts with puffy nipples, narrow waist and long legs which were accented by the plunging neckline of the very short flowery sundress she wore made my mind turn into mush.
It took me a minute or more to realize what they were asking. They were Tom and Lola Patterson and had recently moved to our area. Tom had taken the position at the high school as assistant football coach and also taught English 80, also called Seniors English or as it was called in my day, dumbbell English as it was for those that hadn’t passed regular English and needed an English class to graduate. Lola had taken a position at our local community college as a volleyball coach and her 5’10” height matched mine. We decided to meet for lunch and talk things over.
I suggested O’Brian’s as it’s my sister’s place and I love the food, Plus, she usually gives me a free beer if I behave myself. She had married Charlie O’Brian and helped him build up the Irish themed bar and restaurant, then came back after getting their kids down one night and found good old Charlie boy tapping one of the waitresses in the back room. She caught him square in the back of the head with a bottle of Guinness before ripping out a couple of handfuls of the young gals hair. Let’s just say old Charlie boy got the shit scared out of him by Darlene and agreed to anything she wanted in the divorce, which was just about everything. Anyway, we had three delicious corned beef sandwiches with fries and several pints of beer which my sister insists are always served in iced mugs.
I was the only brother left and her and the kids were pretty close. That is until her new cook Billy came to work for her, then he seemed to be top priority, but that’s another story altogether.
My father and uncle had started this business, eventually my father bought my uncle out. I worked for my father from the time I was little and all through college, meeting Sandi my sophomore year and falling in love. A broken condom during Christmas break and we married that Easter, Carl Jr was born in the early fall. By the time I graduated, my darling Rebecca was child number two. My father and mother spoiled them so. It really didn’t seem such a chore. Then Bobby came along and what a screamer. I don’t know, somehow, I thought he didn’t quite look like me. I buried that thought and loved him like the others and worked my ass off to build a better life for my wife and kids. Then dad had his heart attack and I took over the business. The rest is history they say.