A priest who recently left the Church, who also happened to be a friend of my boyfriend’s family tried to kiss me and that was the least confusing thing that happened that summer. I was living with four girls in a one bedroom apartment with seven single beds in Washington, D.C. 

The large glass windows with broken locks and old metal fire escapes were open to what little breeze there was. It didn’t seem relevant that the boys in the apartment opposite from ours waved and teased us from their fire escapes. Everything seems harmless when you’re 20.

July in D.C, clammy, sweaty, sticky, frizzy, and unbearably hot and humid. But we were there for fun mixed as infrequently as possible with our tasks as summer government interns. Jobs we didn’t take very seriously and at which we did as little as possible. 

Walking to work, we couldn’t afford public transportation, was virtually intolerable. Pantyhose, mandatory in the 60’s, felt like plaster casts after a few minutes, and dresses, also obligatory, stuck to our bodies long before we got to where we were headed. But we followed some rules … just not all of them. 

We all bought our own groceries although we cooked as little as possible. I existed on popcorn and vodka and the kitchen was filled with dry cereal, white bread, peanut butter and Oreos. One morning we discovered a rat running around the stove’s gas burner and the logical solution seemed to be to try on the gas. 

Money was tight. After all, we were unpaid interns and what little we did have was spent on fun. Summer to me meant getting tan so I borrowed the roof deck of a nun who had recently left the Church. And yes, I had been introduced to her by the aforementioned ex-priest. She gave me the key to her apartment and I squeezed myself through a tiny opening from her kitchen to the deck, actually a slab of hot concrete.  I never lasted very long, it was hotter than my walk to work which I was skipping that day, so I helped myself to the lunch she had offered and made my way back to the apartment.

There were the requisite D.C. adventures …. embassy parties, U-turns in front of the White House, multiple excuses for not sowing up at work, having someone stand in a parking space while one of us was looking for a spot, getting in the middle of the then president’s daughter’s wedding traffic, trips to the coast, Hail to the Chief, museums, monuments and 4th of July celebrations but the real fun was what happened spontaneously.

We partied with people we didn’t know or if we did, soon forgot. I was the one with a car but I rarely drove. Not because we had a designated driver, there was no such thing in the 60’s, but because one of us had better reflexes than I did. And it helped that we lived in a neighborhood full of young people who liked to party which meant walking was often an option. 

The ex-priest called one night and invited us to a club to hear Charlie Byrd, a jazz guitarist who I pretended to know but in fact  I had no idea who he was. One of my roommates agreed to go with me and in spite of the fact that I had already consumed my nightly limit of vodka, we left to go meet him at his apartment. 

I think we had a drink there before we left for the club and that was my first (maybe second) but not only mistake of the evening. I don’t remember much about the music (which is a shame because I later found out that Charlie Byrd was the real deal) but I do recall getting sick in the ladies room where my roommate assured me that I was not feeling well because of the heat. How the evening ended is a complete mystery but I was informed the next morning that it was uneventful. Uneventful translated to we got home safely.

One night when we were all sitting around the apartment with the ex-priest, I got a phone call from my boyfriend who had enlisted as an officer after graduating from college that June. I was more than slightly buzzed and very confused at the disappointment he was expressing at having just received notice from the Army that he was 4F for medical reasons. My addled brain was fixed on the fact that a 4F designation meant he wasn’t leaving which I found to be exceptionally good news. Delight and disappointment led to a less than optimal phone call. Neither one of us was communicating what we were actually feeling. Although I was with that boyfriend for quite awhile after that phone call, I never did find out the medical condition that was the underlying reason for the 4F designation. Clear, honest communication was undoubtedly something neither of us was particularly good at.

Once off the phone, I tried unsuccessfully to relay the contents of the phone conversation to those in the room and the ex-priest decided it was time for him to leave. Walking him down two flights of stairs to the sidewalk provided the moment for him to attempt the very awkward goodnight kiss. I always wondered if he thought the prior complicated phone call with my boyfriend was the reason he tried. But I never asked (communication deficit) so I never found out.

Summer government internships are not easy to get and some would say mine was squandered on confusion and fun but I disagree. Confusion, fun, mayhem, mistakes and poor judgment can and often provide lessons although the lessons from this particular summer came long after the summer was over.

It was only in retrospect that I sorted through these memories and came away with some insights. The most important one is the importance of the clear, direct and honest expression of feelings. But that assumes one has the language to do that and it took a very long time for me to learn that vocabulary. Happy and sad were just about the only feeling words I knew and used for a very long time. 

Another insight was into the danger of acting without thinking, or impulsive behavior. Some of what I did that summer can be attributed to age and alcohol but that assessment would let me off the hook too easily. I was very lucky that my reckless behavior did not get me into serious trouble.

And I learned about the importance of having work that I love and that is meaningful. That took me a very very long time to wrap my brain around but I finally think I may be beginning to grasp it now. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly ……..