While making the 10th-11th St. circuit, I thought it would be a cool thing to lean out the back window of Jim’s car as far as I could and shout all the profanities I had learned in Boy’s PE up to that time. I let them fly. All the really bad words I knew. Even the ones my Dad told me not to ever use. Not a stranger to the profanities himself, Jim finally tired of my tirade. And shouted, “Rocky, just wait until you start driving. I’m going to sit in the back of you car and scream every bad word I know and I know some you don’t!” Jim was second generation Italian so he knew all the bad words in Italian too. I shut up. I thought I had been cool, but I had just made a fool of myself.
After becoming a driver, I took Jim cruising several times. He never shouted profanities out of the back of my car. He was too much of a gentleman.
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