Blind Date

This post is dedicated to C.R.

Seventeen years ago, when I was a junior in high school, my friend Ginger set me up on a blind date.

With my future husband.

(Would I dedicate the post to him if it were about a different guy?)

Technically, it wasn't a "blind" date. I knew C.R. a little through some mutual friends. We'd even had a conversation in the school library once about chemistry. He politely observed my mental contortions for Advanced Placement Chemistry class and likely chuckled to himself. What can I say? Science is not my thing. It must've been a fluke that I ended up in that class anyway.

Fortunately, C.R. has no memory of our disastrous first conversation. Too bad I can't say the same thing about our second "conversation" - if you could even call it that.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Before our date, I didn't know C.R. But I did know the following about him (ooh, I feel a list coming):

• He was 5'9, with a slim and athletic build.
• He was super smart. As in Valedictorian smart. (Meanwhile, the closest I got to Valedictorian of my class was sitting behind her at graduation.)
• He was quiet and reserved, but had a low voice that could've easily led to a lucrative career at a 900-number.
• He was a senior, so the only class we shared was pep band. (Hey - quit laughing. Our band was cool, I swear.)
• He had wavy brown hair and sported round glasses that, if paired with a red-and-white striped shirt, would've given him the distinguished "Where's Waldo?" look. I'm just thankful he didn't have a mullet.
• He drove an old blue Ford pick-up.

Some of these, by the way, are still true. Except that he now wears contacts, he no longer drives a pick-up, and he selected a slightly different career path (at least I hope he's not doing any heavy breathing into his phone at work). Likewise, you can try to find that Waldo hairstyle, but it's been missing for quite awhile.

When Ginger asked if she could set me up on a date with C.R., I was excited and just a tiny bit nervous. Well, more like a tiny bit scared out of my mind.

We met at Ginger's house for pizza and movies, along with two other couples. I got there first and nervously waited for C.R. When he arrived, we were officially introduced before we sat together on the loveseat.

And then promptly said nothing to each other for the rest of the date.

Nothing. I'm not exaggerating.

Talk about awkward. It was almost as graceless as the date itself: eating pizza while watching the gory movie Carrie (ugh! I hate horror movies) and trying not to notice the couple making out on the sofa.

Good times. Doesn't it make you wonder how we got from that evening to ten wonderful years of marriage?

I guess it started somewhere on the drive home, when we finally began talking. I asked him about track and he asked me about debate. (Hold your snickers, please. I'll reserve the fascinating stories from debate camp for a later post.)

Then, during the next week at school, we spent every free moment together getting to know each other. And several years later - after college - we got married.

There was some other stuff that happened in between. But I'll save that for another post or two.

Or 47.