My best and most memorable first date was in the summer of 1983 and was with the woman I am still married to today.
Rhonda and I worked together for just under a year. I was, in fact, her supervisor and to this day tell people that this was the last time I ever got to be the boss. We were both married to other people at the time so the thought of us ever getting together didn't even occur to us. I found her attractive, but our relationship consisted of joking around, mostly superficial, light-hearted conversation, and a certain amount of harmless flirtation.
I had been unhappy in my marriage for quite some time and, while Rhonda had nothing to do with it, had finally separated from my wife a few months after she and I began working together. Even then, however, I kept my distance because she, as far as I knew, was happily married and planned on staying married.
It wasn't until she didn't show up for work one day and didn't call in that I learned from female co-workers Rhonda had confided in just how unhappy she was in her current marriage. It was the consensus among them that she had probably left her husband and returned to her home town. As it turned out, this proved to be the case.
It was then that I started writing her letters. This was 1983; in the days prior to e-mail, instant messaging, texting, etc. Much to my surprise, she wrote back. Several letters eventually led to phone calls. And after a few weeks, phone calls turned into us finally arranging to meet midway between where each of us was living. As we were both familiar with the city where we decided to meet, we agreed upon a well known landmark and set a date and time.
It was around noon when I arrived. The roughly two hour drive had seen my emotions run the gauntlet between being very excited to see her again to scared to death at not knowing what to expect. Here we were, for heaven's sake, two people freshly out of bad relationships. We were obviously attracted to each other, but just how crazy was it to even think about getting involved again so soon? It occurred to me that the sane thing to do at this point would be to turn the car around, go home and call her with some sort of excuse why I couldn't make it.
She was already there when I got there. She spotted my car and was walking toward me as I was pulling into a parking space. I got out and started toward her and it was at that moment that I knew I was done for. Any hope of my heart ever belonging to me again was gone and I knew for a fact that I would never be the boss again. Her short, blonde hair shining in the mid-day sun, the light blue strapless sun dress she was wearing setting off her tanned, flawless skin, and the smile I could see on her face as we got closer all made my knees weak. It was as if everything went into slow motion; every step she took and every resulting movement of her body became a separate, pounding heart beat. She hugged me and gave me a quick kiss. She then took both of my hands in hers and held them to her chest. Feel that? she asked. My heart is very happy to see you again.
We went to eat lunch at an Italian restaurant. I don't even remember what we had to eat but I do remember that we talked and laughed and drank wine until the waiters started giving us dirty looks. After we left, we went to a mall and walked and window shopped. We went to a park and sat and talked some more. Then we just drove around town for the longest time. I was amazed at how comfortable it was just to be with her. Before we knew it, it was starting to get dark and I realized that we should probably be starting back home. The thought of leaving her made me very sad. It was then that she asked me what do you want to do now?
Let me explain here that I have always been a somewhat shy, reserved and markedly non-aggressive type person, especially so in the company of beautiful women, so I swear I do not know where the words that left my mouth at that moment came from. I'd like to go pick up a bottle of wine, go check into a hotel, and order something to eat. Before the words had even left my mouth I was mortified. I knew without a doubt that I had completely blown it with this wonderful woman. Any second now I would feel the sting of her hand slapping my face and I would never see or hear from her again. And then I heard OK.
We went to a liquor store, found a hotel, ordered a pizza and spent the evening in bed drinking wine, eating pizza, and watching a David Bowie concert on TV. We made love, talked, held each other, slept, made loveIn the morning, we found a Denny's restaurant, ate breakfast, and then again spend most of the day together.
Late that afternoon we knew we had to go home. While it was hard to leave, we made plans to meet again the following weekend; and for the remainder of that summer we met almost every weekend. Even though we talked on the telephone several times a week, the weekends that one or the other of us couldn't get away were miserable. Finally, in early September, Rhonda asked me how I felt about her moving back to my city. She told me she wanted to get her own apartment, but asked if she could stay with me until she could find a job and find her own place. I was thrilled that she wanted to come back, but also a little hurt that she didn't want to live with me. She just said she thought it would be a better arrangement; at least for the present time.
She did move back and within a month found a job as well as her own apartment. In November, 1984, however, she finally decided she could give let go of her apartment. We have been happily married ever since.
I am certainly glad that I didn't listen, in the summer of 1983, to the sane part of me that wanted to turn his car around and go home.