Ten-Finger Exercises

anniversary, schmaniversary

Twelve years ago today Bill and I met for the first time, and he took me out to lunch.

If this blog ends abruptly, know that I'll fill it in tomorrow. It will be because he's headed down the driveway, and the least I can do for him is not be blogging when he arrives. It's also almost all, because, even though I thought of something good to get him for a present, that was months ago. I either bought it and already gave it to him, or forgot what it was. I'm so lousy about special days. I didn't even buy a card; but if I had, I would have put it away somewhere and not been able to find it. So there you go. I did stop at the store and buy steaks though-- a little treat from Nutri-Systems, and we have several bottles of good red wine.

Now, on with the story.

Twelve years ago I was in the middle of a divorce, and so was he. I had asked Jeannette, a friend and co-worker, if she knew any single men, and she said she'd get back to me. She called a mutual friend, and they agreed Bill and I might get along. Their husbands knew him through Civil Air Patrol, and they had been around him many times themselves. Jeannette said he was, uh, you know, rather large, and I knew she meant fat. That seemed to be her only misgiving, and, as I told her, I wasn't planning to marry him. I just wanted a male friend to do things with sometimes.

She also told me he had a very nice voice, and I could hear it on his answering machine if I wanted to. I had been dating, sporadically, a man I'd met via the newspaper, who had a rich, Southern voice like my first husband. I liked it better than the sound of Bill's.

Bill's message said that if he wasn't at home, he was probably out flying. That sounded interesting. I liked flying. There were a surprising number of similarities in Jeannette's description of Bill to the engineer with the Southern voice, things I liked. They both played the guitar and sang, and I'd been enjoying being serenaded on my back deck. They both were interested in many things, like fishing and golf, also things I wanted to do. And both were pilots.

If I'd made out a list of things I'd like in a man, those would all have been there. T.O.G., the other guy, missed on big points though. He was not at all interested in religion, and he was quiet, tending toward defensiveness like husband #1.

When Bill called to ask me out for lunch, he said he'd pick me up at work at noon, and to be prompt. Okay. I didn't think anything about it. It is daunting to have even someone you know not show at the appointed time. I was prompt. He came into the hospital where I worked and stopped at the operator's desk to have me paged. As soon as I came out, he began apologizing for telling me to be prompt. He said he'd been nervous and he meant to assure me that he'd be prompt.

Now that I know him, I understand why. Now that he knows me, he understands why it was the appropriate thing to say to me too.

We made conversation easily, and he asked me a lot of questions about myself. Half way through lunch he suddenly said, "I can't believe it! I haven't spent the whole time talking about me!" So he got the pictures of his kids out of his wallet and began to tell me all about them. I liked it, both that he showed some self-awareness, and that he obviously loved his son and daughter.

I think he asked me to go somewhere with him that Saturday, but I don't remember for sure. A couple days later I called him up. I said I was going to take my car over for a lube after work, and it was boring sitting around the waiting room. Did he want to come over and keep me company and then go across the street for a pastrami sandwich? He arrived promptly, and we had a nice time before I had to go to a class. Looking back, that sounds like a strange invitation, but I think I knew that I wanted a man who would think it was fun too. We were married about two years later.

Gotta go make salad. Anybody out there have a "how we met" story to share?