The odds were against you being a serial killer since we were all at Sunday night church service. At least, that was my reasoning when I accepted your offer of a ride. Besides, you had a nice smile, and the prospect of your car was more attractive to Kelly and me than catching the bus. Anyway, you looked like you might treat us to a Coke. Maybe even some French fries, and we were ravenous. Since the college cafeteria thought we could get by without supper on Sunday, we were always on the make for food. Nothing serious, of course. We wouldn’t have compromised our morals, but we were willing to feign more interest than we really felt. In fact, we’d done this very thing once before, and that time, it had resulted in me going on several dates with a guy that soon made hunger look inviting. But, fair is fair, and when Kelly pointed out that I had ended up with the last one, I agreed that she could have the tactical advantage of sitting next to you in the car.
You bought us both Cokes and those thin, crispy French fries for which Steak and Shake is famous, so when you asked if it would be alright to call us and arrange a double date, we agreed, our stomachs full, and our brains flooded with endorphins that only salt, grease, and fizz can command.
We went out the night before Valentine’s Day. I with you, and Kelly with your good looking roommate. I don’t remember much about that first date except that your conversation reminded me of someone who was trying to learn 30 new words in 30 days. There was some requisite kissing that we both tacitly agreed was the price I should pay for dinner. Neither the conversation nor the kissing was sparking my interest, but the pizza was good.
This week makes 46 years that we have been celebrating that first date. You kept coming around, feeding me, acting like you were the luckiest guy in the world to have me sitting across from you at the table. You turned out to be a loving husband, a good daddy, and a reliable provider. I don’t know what I was looking for at the start, besides a free meal, that is, but I have gotten everything that should have been on my list if I had been smart enough to make one. You are kind, generous, easy-going, good looking, smart, a cat lover, and a good kisser. Big bonus–you are funny; you make me laugh. And your vocabulary suits me just fine.
They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I don’t know how it’s supposed to work for women, but that’s where it started for me. Meet me for pizza Friday night?