Alhambra High School – Burgers, Bikes, and Boomboxes

Switching schools can feel like hitting the reset button, but when I moved in with my dad and stepmom and transferred to Alhambra High School, I landed on my feet fast. The drama department scooped me up like a lost puppy with a résumé—one of the few real thespians around, and with actual crew experience, I was handed my pick of positions. It was a golden ticket to high school status.

But my time at Alhambra wasn’t just about the stage—it was about fast food jobs, late-night rides, loud music, and meeting people who would change my life forever.

Flipping Burgers and Lifelong Friendships

Like a lot of high school kids, I got a job slinging burgers. My first gig was at Whataburger, working the graveyard shift—10 PM to 6 AM—a brutal schedule for a 14-year-old who still had school in the morning. After my shift, I’d race home for a quick shower, then rush off to class like some kind of overworked adult—except I was getting paid peanuts and surviving on zero sleep.

Why did I do it? An extra $0.20 per hour.

That’s right, the legendary "graveyard shift bonus" of twenty cents an hour convinced me this was a solid life choice. Of course, that meant dealing with the weirdos who rolled in at 3 AM—drunks, insomniacs, and mysterious strangers who looked like they had just buried a body in the desert. The worst were the party crowds at 2 AM on weekends—loud, laughing, drunk people living their best lives, while I was stuck in a paper hat flipping burgers. It was humbling, to say the least.

The only upside? The 2.5-mile ride home.

With my latest cassette tape blasting from my boombox, I turned the whole neighborhood into my personal rock concert. Some people appreciated the free music. Others... not so much. I had more than a few neighbors scream at me to shut up, and once or twice, someone actually chased me down the street. But they were on foot, and I was on a bike. I knew every alley and shortcut in town.

Nobody ever caught me.

Carl’s Jr., Joseph, and the Women Who Defined My Future

After Whataburger, I upgraded to Carl’s Jr., where fate introduced me to Joseph—the guy who would become my best lifelong friend. We bonded over greasy burgers and minimum wage, and to this day, he's still the greatest friend I’ve ever had.

It was also at Carl’s Jr. where Tracy (TC) entered the picture. She was my girlfriend at the time, and she later grew into a wonderful woman and a good cop—which is funny, considering the minor crimes I committed with my boombox terrorizing neighborhoods at 3 AM.

And then there was Denise.

Tracy’s best friend. Super popular. Captain of the softball team, archery team, cross-country, and probably half a dozen other things. Everybody loved her. But in the months to come, she wouldn’t just be Tracy’s best friend—she’d become the love of my life.

The Ultimate High School Setup: A Bike, A Boombox, and No Respect for Noise Ordinances

Since I didn’t have a car yet, my stepmom got me a 15-speed mountain bike, my dad loaned me his boombox, and with a few bungee cords, I had the ultimate high school transportation system. That boombox went everywhere with me.

• To school? Check.
• To work? Absolutely.
• Tubing down the river? Hell yes.

We strapped it to our rafts and floated for miles, blasting the best tunes the '80s had to offer. If you were within a five-mile radius, you knew what we were listening to.

Music was life.

The Girls of Alhambra High

Like any high school, Alhambra had its share of cute girls. I had more than a few crushes—Lori, Kelly, Pamela, DeeDee—but Denise was on another level. She wasn’t just a pretty face—she was an athlete, a leader, and the kind of girl everyone gravitated toward. The fact that she even acknowledged my existence was a miracle.

I was just a boombox-blasting, burger-flipping, drama kid on a bike, but somehow, in the months ahead, Denise would go from Tracy’s best friend to the girl who changed everything.

Alhambra in the '80s: A Time Like No Other

It wasn’t just the people—it was the era. The mid-'80s had an energy you could feel in the air.

• MTV was king (back when they actually played music videos).
• Drive-in movies were still a thing (we practically lived there).
• The Sunset Strip was on fire with rock bands blowing up.
• Parties were wild (and the drinking age was still 18, which helped).

We lived in that perfect gap of time—before cell phones, before social media, before everything got too complicated. We cruised the streets, we blasted our music, and we chased every experience we could find.

Looking back, I can see how every job, every friend, and every crazy late-night ride was leading to something bigger. Alhambra High School wasn’t just another stop—it was the start of something incredible.

And I was just getting started.