Friday, July 25, 2008

How it all started...part two

Because the Rocket Scientist reads my blog and well, he actually proofs it for me. If something is not punctuated or spelled right or a word missing, that is because the RS was not around to help me. I never have been very good at proofing my own stuff, but it has gone down hill since children. The distractions of motherhood leave me wondering how my brain looks. (Is it oatmeal, like it feels?) OH, back to to my point here. The Rocket Scientist saw I was using a fictitious name of Stan for him. You could say that he is not fond of it, so I will from here out refer to him as the RS or the Rocket Scientist. (Can you hear the occasional sarcasm when I use his chosen name?)



It is an April night in 1993. The Rocket Scientist and I have spoken once on the phone briefly a few days before to firm up our plans. Turns out Jed and his soon to be fiance will be joining us on what can only be described as one of the most embarrassing nights of my life.



Before my children were so kind as build my immune system into Fort Knox, I used to manage a couple of really good colds a year. This April evening was one of them. There was no breathing through my nose, I could barely hear my ears were so plugged, and I was definitely mouth-breathing. If that wasn't enough, my color was off and by the time I was trying to pull myself together to have dinner with this guy, I didn't have time to get the right color of foundation. So I had a choice, no make-up, foundation way too dark, or foundation a bit too light. In my cold medicine delirium, I chose too light. (That had to be pretty.) I was pushing as much cold medicine on myself as I dared. I have never consumed alcohol, other than NyQuil, when necessary to control a cough and get some sleep. Now I should have canceled, being as sick as I was, but in my cold medicine induced state, my judgement was a bit impaired. Some how, I thought it would be perfectly acceptable to go out.



The door bell rings as I am doing a few dishes. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I answer the door. I would like to say it was love at first sight, but it really wasn't. He wasn't bad to look at, just really, really not my type! I asked him to come in, sounding lovely I'm sure, so I could quickly finish up the dishes. (Why those darn dishes had to be done that minute, I am still not sure. All I can say is, remember the cold medicine.) He is very patient while I deal with my momentary obsession with the dishes.



We meet Jed and his date at a local diner for dinner. I don't remember to much of that part of the night, other than I ordered a chef salad that could have fed a large rabbit family. Jed and his date had to meet someone at the airport and were parting ways with us for a couple of hours. We were to meet up later at the movie theater. The RS and I now have some time to kill. We talk and drive. We end up in the town my family lives and where Jed and I went to high school. Now if you have ever been to Magna, UT, you know this is NOT where you take a date to impress him. I think part of me was trying really hard to scare him off. I'm not sure if it was because I was not interested or if that somewhere in my heart, I knew he was my true love. We talked with ease, never an uncomfortable silence. At some point, I tell him I want 12 kids and he shoots back with he wants 13, so he could have a whole baseball team. Then a little later, I tell him that I don't believe in divorce, but that I might believe in manslaughter. (Are these words of an uninterested woman? I am still not sure.)

We end up at my parents home. I introduce the RS to my parents and a few of my siblings. I can tell that my mom is impressed with him. She's giving me the, "What's wrong with you?" look, as she can tell I am not interested in this guy.



When we meet up with Jed and his honey at the movies, it is decided that we will see Forever Young, a movie I have already seen twice. I don't care though. The cold medicine is all the fun I need. As it would turn out, there is an empty seat to one side of me. This ends up being fortunate for whoever decided not to sit there. I am starting to feel a little drowsy. I can feel myself swaying a little. You know how it is when your dating and you don't want to give the guy the wrong impression? Well, I certainly didn't want the RS to think I was romantically intrigued. So, I was refusing to put my arm on the armrest between us.

Oh, the need for sleep was suddenly overwhelming. I was pinching the inside of my arm to stay awake. Didn't do any good. I realized my head is dangling in the empty seat next to me. I hurry and sit up trying to look like nothing has happened since it appeared nobody noticed. Feeling relieved, I discreetly wipe the drool off the side of my face with my sleeve. The adrenaline is starting to wear off from almost being caught, when I realize I am going to have to use some of the arm rest between us. It is the only hope I have to appear awake. I slide my elbows into the back corners of both arm rests, hoping to prop myself up. When I wake up this time, my head is dangling in my lap and I am drooling. (That no breathing through my nose thing was becoming a real problem.) I yank my head up. Not very inconspicuously either, I might add. Once again wiping my face off with my sleeve.



I am still not sure how it happened, but I wake one last time as the movie is ending. My head is on the Rocket Scientist's shoulder. I have managed to drool all down his arm. He has been very sweet to let me sleep. I try to very slyly wipe his arm off with my sleeve. (I know.......... Is this the most disgusting first date you have ever heard? I think I am gagging a little, just trying to tell it.) He never says a word about it. He drives me home. I invite him in. We talk for a few minutes. I have to be up early the next day for work, so he says good night. I walk him out and hug him good-bye. I can tell if I give him an opening, the man is going to kiss my socks off. Since I think he is a geek at this point, I keep my face as far away from his as possible. (Like I had any right thinking he was the geek after what I did to his arm.)



That was it. He left and I went in, crawled into bed and drooled on my pillow. I was actually very relieved that he lived so far away. There would be no need for me to explain I just wasn't interested.



A few days pass and I get a call from Bill. He wants to come over. I let him. (Why would I do that?) I must have missed him a little. Bill was still holding out hope that I would start to miss him enough to get back together. We talked a while. After he left, I knew there was no way I could ever go back to where we had been.



I cried a lot that night. Sometime that night the RS called. We talked for an hour or so. He mentions he will be coming back to Salt Lake in a month or two. He was coming up to see some friends. I am so comforted talking to him, that I am actually wanting to see him. As friends though, nothing else.



To be continued.......

5 comments:

orangemily said...

To be continued!! Man I'm hanging on a thread here, what happens? Well I know how it ends up, but I love hearing the "how you got there" part.

The Pink Potpourri said...

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Rhea said...

I'm enjoying your love story. :o)

Although it's off to a gross beginning. lol

Squirty Wart said...

Yep! Deffinately sounds like my sister... How many guys that you had dated at some point, were all an active part of your life and even knowing about each other? And "Bill" was the only one who had serious jealousy issues that I recall). LOL! I thik I count 3 with this story, alone. I think >I< was jealous of you. (Yeah, I guess I am finally admitting that after how many years and 2 therapists?)

All these guys liked to be around you regardless if it was because they could be "yours" or would have to settle to be your friend. If I only could have had that self-confidence. Nope, instead I settled for all the loosers or any guys that you kicked to the curb (with good reason). I guess that is the way it is with sisters.

I am enjoying reading about the RS. You 2 have a great relationship. Come to think of it, I missed out a lot on your dating stories with the RS. Glad I can hear them now.

Love ya!

Krista said...

I'm holding back the food knocking on my esophagus. You know how I am about spit! It does make a funny story one you get past the gag reflex!