Buried in my garage is a photo album of us in England back in the 80's. One wild and crazy night at the Red Onion, we ran into two delightful Englishmen on holiday, Ricky and Glen. We hung out, exchanged names and numbers. Would you believe that they use to call us at work all the way from England?
We worked together at FHP in Long Beach, CA at the time. "Ricky from England is on the phone!" Boy was that fun to hear. Repeatedly they would ask when were we coming out to England. One fine day I took leave of my senses and purchased an airline ticket. My poor mother! To make matters worse, I went by myself the first time. You can be sure that this is a great story for another day. A few months later I raced back, this time with Lisa in tow.
We stayed in the Brighton flat of another young man named Wayne. I can still hear his answering machine message now, "Hello. This is Wayne" spoken with an English accent.
Now I'm laughing. This is good. Franco had a wicked sense of humor and constantly had me cracking up. Her main man at the time was Mike.
If anyone knows her (I'm sure her last name has changed since then) or knows someone who knows someone who knows someone else that knows her, tell her I'm attempting to track her Franco-bowla behind, down. Oh yes, and let her know that I'm wondering if she still has that big head of 80's hair and perfectly manicured nails.