How I Met You

My mother did not think that she would stay in North Carolina any longer than a single year. What was this southerm, country place compared to the warm familiar suberbs of Portland, Oregon? She missed the Saturday market, the snow that fell frequently in the winter, and most of all: her family.

My father was expecting to move- again. He was sure that there was another place. He'd lived in Chicago, Atlanta, and now Greensboro. But Chicago and Atlanta were different. They were lively, modern cities. Not this strange, lightly populated city, which he thought was closer to a town in comparison. Which was why he was ecstatic when he got a job offer in San Fransisco.

The year was 1991, and this is where it all began: a bar. After a frustrating, stressful day at work, my mother was getting a couple of drinks with some co-workers, and my father was going to shoot some pool. Both did this almost every Friday night. Some would say this was fate. They just had to meet. One problem. They always went at different times: my mother earlier in the evening, my father later in the night.

On a normal Friday evening, like any other, my mother was at the bar. As she took a seat on a stool, the bartender walked over to her. Jean Rivers- her good friend. She smiled as my mother sat down.

"Gloria, there's a guy that usually plays pool on Fridays. I think he's interested. You should go talk to him," Jean said. My mom just grinned and shook her head. She had no interest in romance, at least not now. She needed to get home. Besides, what would her mother say? She had already tried to set her up with that Chinese man...

She shuddered just at the memory of being arranged with someone who she didn't know. Still, she couldn't dissapoint her mother again. She quickly got up and left the bar, determined Jean was playing her.

No more than an hour later, my father strode into the bar.

"Jim!" Jean called to him. "Come here! I have something important to tell you."

As he leaned on the counter, Jean whispered excitedly, "Jim, there's a girl. She's kind and pretty good-looking, if you know what I mean... You just missed her."

My father, unlike my mother, was eager to meet this woman. Who was she? Could he even impress her? Probably not, he thought as he pictured himself in his own mind. Skinnny. Pale and Pasty. A Nerd with huge glasses. That's how she'd see him, he was sure of it, but he should at least try.

Each week, Jean would try to convince my mother that this "anonymous pool player" was worth meeting. And each week, she would tell my father about her. But every week, my mom refused and left before my dad could even look at her. And, of course, he was dissapointed every time.

One evening, after an especially tiring Friday workday, my mother decided to stay a little later than usual, and my father came to the bar a little earlier than usual (probably just so he could meet this mystery woman).

They met. My mom first noticed how out of shape he was. My, she thought, he's skinny as a stick. Then she noticed he had a fine smile. Well, she thinks, he's no Prince Charming, but he seems nice. Still, she wasn't impressed.

My dad, on the other hand, was awestruck. Wow, he thought. She was everything he had imagined: dark hair, warm eyes, and tan skin. No, she was better than his imagination- much better. For him, it was love at first sight.

He invited her for a drink. As they sat and talked, Jean watched from behind the bar counter. Seeing Gloria laughing at Jim's joke; it was like magic. She hadn't seen her friend happy since she'd moved here adn maybe this was a turn point for her. With a smile, Jean turned back to her job, wondering if it would last.

She was right. My dad asked my mom on multiple dates, and slowly, she warmed up to him. She began to notice things about him that she hadn't seen before- his sense of humor, mostly. He was good entertainment for her. She didn't love him, not nearly, but as time went on, she found that she did. Enough to stay.

My father's job position in San Fransisco was filled, and my mother decided that North Carolina wasn't the worst place in the world. It wasn't Oregon, that's for sure, but it would work. Besides, she had someone here who loved her devotedly, completely, and dedicatedly. And he wasn't a Chinese man that her mother would approve of, or her father for that matter. He wasn't a wealthy person who would give her a rose every day. But to her, he could still be her prince on a white horse.

Months passed, and one day, on another date, my father asked my mother to marry him. She was shocked- utterly and completely stunned. They hadn't even been dating that long! As soon as she could open her mouth, she blurted out, "Wh-Where's the ring?"

My father froze, humiliated. God, why didn't he get her a ring? Looking at her sad, surprised eyes, he felt like jumping in a pond, but the sane, more logical part of him was saying: Because you can't afford it. It was true; he couldn't get the expensive, diamond encrusted rings like all the other guys. He barely afforded his new house... but Gloria wasn't a house.

No, she was a woman, one whom he loved- one whom he was not allowed to let slip though his fingers.

A couple weeks later, my father was jewelry shopping. He had to find the perfect ring, no matter the cost. A simple gold band with a cleanly cut diamond caught his eye. That was the one.

Almost a month after the failed first proposal, my father tried again. This time, he got on his knee and presented the ring. He said a common request, one used many times before, but still very special.

"Gloria Lee, I am in love with you. Will you marry me?"

Staring dumbfoundedly at the ring, my mother's stomach twisted. Her tongue tied. Her legs turned to jelly. All she could do was let out a one-word reply.

"Yes."

My mother thought she would never stay in North Carolina; she was lonely, she didn't fit in, and she just didn't like it. My fahter thought he was making a fresh start; San Fransisco was so much more appealing than this place. Little did he know, he didn't need one. They both thought they needed to move to be happy. Both were wrong. And they lived happily ever after... all because of a bartender.


The End

~

A True Story