Meeting of two minds
Warning, this post is long…go pee first. Several people have asked how QueenSuchandSuch and I have met. Well, today we are going to attempt a special treat. I am going to recall how our relationship started from my side, and Andi is going to recall how she THINKS it all happened from her side. I start this blog with my point (as I almost always have one) which is, you never know what will happen until you try.
Think back to December 1997. The radio is playing “MMMBop” by Hanson and “Walking on the Sun” by Smash Mouth. I am in Reston, Virginia, working at my new position as a Microsoft Systems Consultant for a computer systems integrator. My wife, Teri, had her cancer surgery and has forced me to start dating. She believed it was not fair that she was not able to fulfill her wifely duties (this is a long blog in itself) after the surgery and is not willing to move to the Washington D.C. area. I accepted the new position for money. In Salisbury, Maryland, my salary was half of what I made across the creek (Chesapeake Bay). Since Teri came down with cancer, her salary had to be subsidized with my new position.
This brought me to the point where I am now, living single in Virginia, sending my paycheck back to Maryland to support my wife and three kids. I had not touched the dating scene for over 12 years. So, my wife had to teach me to date. She bought me black jeans, with a white shirt, and a flannel button down shirt (unbuttoned) to lay over top and my black pea coat. She taught me that I HAVE to bring a gift of some sort to a first date…chocolate, flowers, a TV…just something. She reminded me that other women out there still like to have their door opened for them, that chivalry was definitely a win.
What she did NOT tell me was where to start. I am not a big fan of the bar scene. I love to dance, and often did in Ocean City, but this is different. In Ocean City, I hit the clubs to dance. That’s it. There was never any intention to make any kind of relationship with these women. I was the safe dance date. I had some regulars, but overall, everyone was a tourist and would never see me again. I digress.
When I had to start dating, I had no idea where to start. There was no Match.com or Yahoo! Personals. I was not going to play the newspaper, telelink system (I don’t write well). So, I decided chatting was the only way I would ever get a date.
For those of you who has never chatted, this is an area of the web, where you can go and talk about totally unrelated, crude, intelligent, religious, political or anything else in real time. The format has changed over the years, but for the most part, it is the same. It is somewhat like blogging in real time (without spell check). I checked chat a short time back and they still talk a lot and never say anything.
Back to the story… I joined the Washington DC chat group and started chatting with FirstInitiaLastName_66. After trying to chat for about 5 minutes, this character “dcfish” decided that she needed to inform me that my chat handle was terrible and I should change it. Oh, maybe THAT is why everyone is ignoring me. So, I change it to MyOwnSelf (I still like that name).
Yeah! I actually had a handle. I became someone I was not! I logged in the following day and started watching. Something about chatting, when you get in a big room like that, you need to make sure that you identify the regulars to the room and make a report. I started categorizing them into Young and Stupid, Smart, In it for sex, Too old for me, Stupid Punk, Advertisement, and Pot head (those are the ones who advertise they have been arrested). I was after two categories, In it for Sex, and Smart. What? At least I am honest. When I felt I had the lay of the land, I again changed my handle to N8iv and started trolling.
DCFish is smart. Damn smart. She was really the ONLY person on the board that pulled my interest. So, I struck up a couple chat topics and looked specifically for her handle in the 4000 lines streaming across the screen every second. You have to read fast in those days. Problem was, she had been “dating” this loon in Nebraska online. I am really not sure what that was all about.
I asked her out anyhow. I figured at least I am here, schmuck is in Nebraska. Maybe she will go out with me just because of my winning personality…and modesty. I received a very rapid “no.” So, a month later when she broke up with Nebraska, I again asked to go out…No. You know, This dating thing was not really working for me. Two months into it and still nothing. Talk about take a sledge hammer to my ego…
So, after a date with one of the “In it for Sex” category, I again asked her. What seems like an eternity of lines streaming across, she says “sure.” WOOOOHOOOOO! Finally, a real date! My next thought was “now what?” In all of that time watch her chat and taking notes, I do not believe she mentioned her preference for a date. So, now in a one-on-one chat box, I asked her where she would like to go. She replied back with “you choose.” Did I mention I had just moved there? So, I asked a friend what a good club is in DC which was replied with “Coco Loco.” In the chat box I asked if Coco Loco was a good choice.
This is where my vision of her changed. She explained to me that she was not quite 21 yet. Well, there goes Coco Loco. Then the Red Alert kicked into my brain…Oh NOOO! Have I been hitting on a teenager? Bad visions flashed into my head of me in my bright orange jump suit and my roommate Bubba looking at me like I was his five cent prostitute. My next question to her was “Oh, how old are you?” 20. Whew…no jail for me.
Now I had a new dilemma, someplace to take an under 21. I remember when I first moved to DC there was this cool looking restaurant in Tyson’s Corner Mall with aquariums, night lighting and misty storm clouds. “OK, how about Rain Forest Café?”
She had no idea where that was and what it was about. Yeah! I found a place a local had not been! Bonus.
This brings me to our date night. I was working at a site in DC so I drove in that day instead of taking the usual mass transit. I had my “date clothes” with me so I could change before I left for the date. During the day, I reflected back on the checklist my wife made for me…uh oh, take a gift. Now I had a new issue, I had to find a gift. I remember that she did not like roses (that has since changed) and that her favorite flower was Lilac. Have you ever had to find Lilac in February? Do they even sell Lilac?
So as soon as work is over, the run begins. I had to find Lilac in a town I do not know well and make it to her place at 7:00. I had to first scout out her place. I hate not knowing where I am going, so I will drive to where I have to be to make sure I can get there on time. I found the place and start looking for flower shops. Mental note…there are not as many flower shops as you would like when are actually looking for flowers. I relate it to gas stations when the gas light has been on for miles.
The first flower shop had no lilacs nor TVs, nor the second, the third, or the fourth. At the fifth store, I decided that I would NEVER find lilacs and had to find a suitable substitute. I looked around the store, looked at my watch, looked around the store faster and spotted the one and only plant suitable for a date. A potted purple and pink hyancinth. It smelled delicious and looked beautiful. It was potted and in my mind that meant that it would be part of a living relationship.
I arrived early for my date. The tension was killing me so I walked as slowly as possible from the curb in front of her building to the front door and asked to be buzzed into the reception area. Now, keep in mind, I have never heard her voice nor seen a picture of her. This was truly a blind date. The next thing I hear is “Hello?” In my deepest manly man voice I say “Hi, it’s N8.” She responded with “I will be right down, wait inside.”
I am anxious, pacing and the rather large security guy behind the desk is looking me up and down like he wants to throw me back out into the street. I check my look one more time and I feel like a kid in high school waiting on his first date with “Dad” sitting behind the desk staring at me. OK, I am ready. I wait...and wait...and wait for what seems like an eternity.
The elevator dings. Nope, not her.
The elevator dings. Nope, not her again (Someone needs to duct tape the elevator bell).
I decide I better sit down before I pee my pants. Then the elevator dings, I see a young very attractive and confident woman walk up to the desk and look around (right at me even) and walk back out of sight. ACK! I have just been slammed! She saw me and RAN for the hills!
Then she came back out and smiled. It was then my soul spoke up and said “What took you so long? I have been waiting.” My mouth spoke up and said “dcfish?” I handed her the potted flower which she asked the guard to hold until she returned.
We drove out to Tyson’s Corner to have dinner. The food was OK, but the atmosphere was cool and we couldn’t stop laughing.
After, we went to go watch the planes land at the wrong airport. Apparently, that airport does not have a park by it, so we went to my apartment instead. Everything from that point on is censored. I returned her home the following morning. I haven’t had her out of my mind since.
Think back to December 1997. The radio is playing “MMMBop” by Hanson and “Walking on the Sun” by Smash Mouth. I am in Reston, Virginia, working at my new position as a Microsoft Systems Consultant for a computer systems integrator. My wife, Teri, had her cancer surgery and has forced me to start dating. She believed it was not fair that she was not able to fulfill her wifely duties (this is a long blog in itself) after the surgery and is not willing to move to the Washington D.C. area. I accepted the new position for money. In Salisbury, Maryland, my salary was half of what I made across the creek (Chesapeake Bay). Since Teri came down with cancer, her salary had to be subsidized with my new position.
This brought me to the point where I am now, living single in Virginia, sending my paycheck back to Maryland to support my wife and three kids. I had not touched the dating scene for over 12 years. So, my wife had to teach me to date. She bought me black jeans, with a white shirt, and a flannel button down shirt (unbuttoned) to lay over top and my black pea coat. She taught me that I HAVE to bring a gift of some sort to a first date…chocolate, flowers, a TV…just something. She reminded me that other women out there still like to have their door opened for them, that chivalry was definitely a win.
What she did NOT tell me was where to start. I am not a big fan of the bar scene. I love to dance, and often did in Ocean City, but this is different. In Ocean City, I hit the clubs to dance. That’s it. There was never any intention to make any kind of relationship with these women. I was the safe dance date. I had some regulars, but overall, everyone was a tourist and would never see me again. I digress.
When I had to start dating, I had no idea where to start. There was no Match.com or Yahoo! Personals. I was not going to play the newspaper, telelink system (I don’t write well). So, I decided chatting was the only way I would ever get a date.
For those of you who has never chatted, this is an area of the web, where you can go and talk about totally unrelated, crude, intelligent, religious, political or anything else in real time. The format has changed over the years, but for the most part, it is the same. It is somewhat like blogging in real time (without spell check). I checked chat a short time back and they still talk a lot and never say anything.
Back to the story… I joined the Washington DC chat group and started chatting with FirstInitiaLastName_66. After trying to chat for about 5 minutes, this character “dcfish” decided that she needed to inform me that my chat handle was terrible and I should change it. Oh, maybe THAT is why everyone is ignoring me. So, I change it to MyOwnSelf (I still like that name).
Yeah! I actually had a handle. I became someone I was not! I logged in the following day and started watching. Something about chatting, when you get in a big room like that, you need to make sure that you identify the regulars to the room and make a report. I started categorizing them into Young and Stupid, Smart, In it for sex, Too old for me, Stupid Punk, Advertisement, and Pot head (those are the ones who advertise they have been arrested). I was after two categories, In it for Sex, and Smart. What? At least I am honest. When I felt I had the lay of the land, I again changed my handle to N8iv and started trolling.
DCFish is smart. Damn smart. She was really the ONLY person on the board that pulled my interest. So, I struck up a couple chat topics and looked specifically for her handle in the 4000 lines streaming across the screen every second. You have to read fast in those days. Problem was, she had been “dating” this loon in Nebraska online. I am really not sure what that was all about.
I asked her out anyhow. I figured at least I am here, schmuck is in Nebraska. Maybe she will go out with me just because of my winning personality…and modesty. I received a very rapid “no.” So, a month later when she broke up with Nebraska, I again asked to go out…No. You know, This dating thing was not really working for me. Two months into it and still nothing. Talk about take a sledge hammer to my ego…
So, after a date with one of the “In it for Sex” category, I again asked her. What seems like an eternity of lines streaming across, she says “sure.” WOOOOHOOOOO! Finally, a real date! My next thought was “now what?” In all of that time watch her chat and taking notes, I do not believe she mentioned her preference for a date. So, now in a one-on-one chat box, I asked her where she would like to go. She replied back with “you choose.” Did I mention I had just moved there? So, I asked a friend what a good club is in DC which was replied with “Coco Loco.” In the chat box I asked if Coco Loco was a good choice.
This is where my vision of her changed. She explained to me that she was not quite 21 yet. Well, there goes Coco Loco. Then the Red Alert kicked into my brain…Oh NOOO! Have I been hitting on a teenager? Bad visions flashed into my head of me in my bright orange jump suit and my roommate Bubba looking at me like I was his five cent prostitute. My next question to her was “Oh, how old are you?” 20. Whew…no jail for me.
Now I had a new dilemma, someplace to take an under 21. I remember when I first moved to DC there was this cool looking restaurant in Tyson’s Corner Mall with aquariums, night lighting and misty storm clouds. “OK, how about Rain Forest Café?”
She had no idea where that was and what it was about. Yeah! I found a place a local had not been! Bonus.
This brings me to our date night. I was working at a site in DC so I drove in that day instead of taking the usual mass transit. I had my “date clothes” with me so I could change before I left for the date. During the day, I reflected back on the checklist my wife made for me…uh oh, take a gift. Now I had a new issue, I had to find a gift. I remember that she did not like roses (that has since changed) and that her favorite flower was Lilac. Have you ever had to find Lilac in February? Do they even sell Lilac?
So as soon as work is over, the run begins. I had to find Lilac in a town I do not know well and make it to her place at 7:00. I had to first scout out her place. I hate not knowing where I am going, so I will drive to where I have to be to make sure I can get there on time. I found the place and start looking for flower shops. Mental note…there are not as many flower shops as you would like when are actually looking for flowers. I relate it to gas stations when the gas light has been on for miles.
The first flower shop had no lilacs nor TVs, nor the second, the third, or the fourth. At the fifth store, I decided that I would NEVER find lilacs and had to find a suitable substitute. I looked around the store, looked at my watch, looked around the store faster and spotted the one and only plant suitable for a date. A potted purple and pink hyancinth. It smelled delicious and looked beautiful. It was potted and in my mind that meant that it would be part of a living relationship.
I arrived early for my date. The tension was killing me so I walked as slowly as possible from the curb in front of her building to the front door and asked to be buzzed into the reception area. Now, keep in mind, I have never heard her voice nor seen a picture of her. This was truly a blind date. The next thing I hear is “Hello?” In my deepest manly man voice I say “Hi, it’s N8.” She responded with “I will be right down, wait inside.”I am anxious, pacing and the rather large security guy behind the desk is looking me up and down like he wants to throw me back out into the street. I check my look one more time and I feel like a kid in high school waiting on his first date with “Dad” sitting behind the desk staring at me. OK, I am ready. I wait...and wait...and wait for what seems like an eternity.
The elevator dings. Nope, not her.
The elevator dings. Nope, not her again (Someone needs to duct tape the elevator bell).
I decide I better sit down before I pee my pants. Then the elevator dings, I see a young very attractive and confident woman walk up to the desk and look around (right at me even) and walk back out of sight. ACK! I have just been slammed! She saw me and RAN for the hills!
Then she came back out and smiled. It was then my soul spoke up and said “What took you so long? I have been waiting.” My mouth spoke up and said “dcfish?” I handed her the potted flower which she asked the guard to hold until she returned.
We drove out to Tyson’s Corner to have dinner. The food was OK, but the atmosphere was cool and we couldn’t stop laughing.
After, we went to go watch the planes land at the wrong airport. Apparently, that airport does not have a park by it, so we went to my apartment instead. Everything from that point on is censored. I returned her home the following morning. I haven’t had her out of my mind since.
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