A Love Story

15 years ago, I was asked to go to a Catholic Youth Convention by my high school because, well, they knew I had nothing else better to do.  I went because it meant a credit towards my Religion class, and besides, I had some friends who went to that other school we were going to.  I figured, we were all going to meet there and hang out at Caldor next door, so we wouldn’t really be staying in the school as much.  It was just an ordinary day.

I arrived at the school and saw one of my friends as planned.  However, I keep on forgetting that Big Kahuna, as she’ll be called and I’ll leave it to your imagination why we call her that, was a very active student in that school.  Why I didn’t think she’d be a volunteer in the convention, I had no idea.  So, I talked to BK for a while, and she told me that she met this new girl (whom we are going to call J) and asked me to sit with her. I said, sure, why not. The girls from my school disappeared to see their friends as well, so why not make a new friend, right?  J and I started with the formalities and she was nice, although very……….open when it comes to talking about her personal life.  In the 10 minutes we have spoken, I pretty much knew what kind of guy she was looking for….lol! 

After a while of chitchatting, she asked me the most curious thing in the world.  J told me that she came in with a guy and that he went to the host school as well and maybe I’d like to hang out with them.  She also said that he seemed to be enamored by her, so maybe I could distract him so she “kood mit ah-der pee-pol.”  (Yes, that’s how she said it…ha!) Was this girl serious?  Normally, I would have called her out and tell her she was full of shit, but for some reason, I just said sure, why not. 

Before we could meet the so-called clinger, there was a part in the convention when we had to greet someone we had never met before and asked them for their name and for something about them they’d be willing to share and write the info on this sheet of paper we were given.  Imagine Love Connection – for Catholics….lol!  I’m a people person, so asking people for anything was not going to be a problem, and for the most part, the cuties (yes, I targeted the guys) were very indulging.  As a matter of fact, I remember exchanging phone numbers with some of them.  Then, 5 minutes before the introduction part ended, there was this one guy who not only did not say hi, but just pretty much shoved the paper to my face.  I gave him the look of death, remembered his face, and said to myself, “Son better watch his  back because I’ll be beating his white arse when  I see him outside.”  You don’t do that to a Brooklyn girl….EVAH!  (Yeah, I know we moved to Queens by then, but who cares?  I’ll always be a Brooklyn girl). 

After the introduction session,  I  went to see BK who was now sitting with J and told them about the asshole I just met.  I was fuming and told them that jackass better not show himself to me because I will beat the crap out of him.  It didn’t matter that he was 6 foot tall; his behind was mine.  BK and J were very sympathetic, even agreeing with me  that what that jerk did was uncalled for.  Then, J said, “Oh, there’s my friend.  He’s going to sit with us and I’ll introduce you to him.”  I turned around and who came near our table but that jerk!  OH-EM-GEE!  I gave BK a look and she started laughing.  She then said, “Nah, he’s a good guy.  Trust me.”  Uh-huh.  A while ago, she had my back and now…….hmmm.  Even worse, I agreed to keep this mofo company.  Ugh!  What did I get myself into?

So, asshole was introduced to me.  I still gave  him my “you’re dead” look, but it wasn’t the time for my murderous scheme to materialize.  I had a plan, and if there’s one thing everybody knows about me, it's that I’m devious.  I will get to know what his weakness is, and I will use it to make him suffer….bwahahahah!

I learned that he was already in college(Yeah, hanging out with a bunch of minors, you perv!  I don’t care if you just turned 19.), that he graduated from the host school we were in, that he was taking Accounting as a major, and that he worked in the rectory.  I also learned that his birthday is in September, he can emulate cartoon voices (quite very good, as a matter of fact), and that he is the only child.  He would have loved to have a little brother or sister, but as luck would have it, it wasn’t meant to be.  He is of Irish-Welch descent from Canada, but his parents are from Brooklyn.  He lived in Ridgewood, and he loves to swim.   I have learned so many things about the jerk throughout the night, and when the night was over, I just realized that I have spent the whole time talking to this guy whose demise I was planning.  My plan better work if I spent a whole evening getting to know this absurdly really nice guy, I thought. 

I have to admit though, from what I have learned, this guy seemed to be a really good guy and for the first time that night, I noticed that he has this gorgeous pale blue eyes that radiate both kindheartedness and strength.  He had this thick blonde hair that I could imagine running my fingers through to make him feel relaxed.  His nose is perfectly shaped and his smile is very sincere.  He doesn’t talk in a condescending, cocky way that most guys I’ve met usually do, and he knows how to joke with me without being disrespectful.  He is very chivalrous without forgetting my need to be an independent woman, and he understands how important it is for me to be successful in everything that I do.  When I was mugged and beaten up, he went with one token in hand to the middle-of- nowhere hospital where I was taken to ensure that I was alright, not caring on how he would get home afterwards.  He held my hand while being stitched, and never left until he was sure I was okay.  He gives me support and understanding, even when it meant that what I have to do will take me away from him.  He has never left New York before me, yet he did not have a problem packing up and leaving just to be with me.  Most of all, he accepted me, both the good and the bad, tantrums and all, because, and he said, “Behind that façade is the woman I love.”

So, 15 years after that March evening, I am still planning my devious scheme.  I have lost touch with BK and have never seen J after that year again.  (Side note: I found out that the jerk didn’t even like J….lol!) Some would argue that I probably already have put my plan into action by marrying him, but hey, I told you, I’m evil!  Yet, admittedly, that evening I met the jerk turned out to be the night that I have met my rock, my strength, the one that I love, my husband – Cookie Monster.  This year, we are celebrating our 5-year anniversary as husband and wife.  He always tells me how lucky he is to have found me, but really, the lucky person is me.   Who else would’ve known how to tame a brat like me?

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Fuzzywuzzy aka, Cookie Monster.  I love you.  And yes, your behind will always be mine.  LOL!