Today is the day before Thanksgiving and in Frog & Goat land that means dinner out because 11 years ago we went on our first date. Join me now for a trip down memory lane.
I worked at Hell and in the afternoons the better-half would come in to do a little computer work for the owner. He usually showed up around 5 and at 5 I clocked out and ran to my car. There was no working one more second there so it was very hard for him to make any time with me. Plus I thought he was married when we first met so I didn’t really give him much thought (which he knows so there won’t be any gasping). During the first weeks of working at Hell we had a re-open party since Hell had burned nearly down. At that party the better-half and I hit it off and really enjoyed talking to each other…which I considered very significant since I’m the world’s worst at small talk–I see no point in it. Then the better-half’s girlfriend came up and they left. There was something about her manner that really made me think they were married. Turns out they were on the verge of breaking up.
Months later, I was watching STNG and got a phone call from the better-half. He wanted to take me out on the Wednesday of Thanksgiving week to see Evita (the play not that Madonna movie) and grab a bite to eat. I said yes. I figured if he was asking me out then he wasn’t married–yes, the contrary to that thought happens all the time–but he’s a stand-up guy. My sister and I went shopping toot-sweet and I got something I felt was appropriate for seeing Evita. I told the better-half that I’d meet him at his apartment and we could go from there. Even though I thought he was a good guy there was no way I wanted him to know where I lived. I mean we met at Hell and a girl has to be careful.
The apartment he lived in when we met was a Hole. I passed his pot smoking neighbors (I mention that only because there was a cloud of smoke on the deckâthey turned out to be very cool and, sadly, they moved out west) and climbed the spiral staircase. He opened the door and I kept my game face on because he had NO furniture–a scary plaid wingback chair, a computer table and nothing else. His TV and stereo sat on the floor. He did have a kitchen table and chairs and a bed but I didn’t see those things immediately. I said I’d drive and off we went.
The play was great and at intermission we stood in the grand hallway and tooled on people. Then when he asked me about dinner, I said I’d like some french fries. We ended up at Joe’s Inn and we talked for way longer than the waitress wanted us to and then we went back to his apartment parking lot. He got out of the car and we said our good-byes. I told him “Happy T-Day” and then I roared off down the lane in the car affectionately known as the Turbo Hyundai. He gets all googly-eyed whenever he says Happy T-Day and likes to tell the story of the Turbo Hyundai going off in a cloud of blue smoke. I think he knew then. It took me a little longer but I came to the same conclusion–he’s a keeper.