I Can Read You Like a Book

My husband asked me out on our first date in a library. It was our college library, a Mike Brady-esque building overlooking the Oak Grove (our quad).

I started going to the library when I transferred to this college. It was a way to get some space from an annoying room-mate (is there any other kind?) The library was under budgetary constraints. In western PA, football is king. So it three stacks of fiction, none of it recent.

Being the resourceful gal that I am, I found some wonderful books in that library. I would walk between the stacks and pull out books with interesting titles. With that method, I discovered Kingsley Amis, P.J. Wodehouse, Truman Capote, The Wizard of Loneliness, and The Truth About Unicorns - an extremely odd book that captured my imagination.

The library also had carrels with small televisions, a VCR, headphones, and a stock of about 500 movies. I would take the afternoon off and watch all sorts of classic flicks like Kurosawa's Dreams, All That Jazz, Vertigo, etc.

So the library kept me occupied when I needed some time alone or was between classes. I am fairly confident that I never studied there. However, the BEST part of the library is the memory of the day this cute guy tracked me down and asked me out.

I'd met him at a party the night before. He was an acquaintance of my brother, who was a few years ahead of me. My escort for the evening had abandoned me, and as I was new to the school, I was left stranded. I was fending off an approach from some guy who was talking about my thighs, when a cute boy started talking normally to me. I have no idea what he said, but I managed to follow him around until my escort suddenly reappeared. The escort tried to balance a glass of beer on my head and, of course, spilled it all over me. Needless to say, the cute guy walked me home that evening.

I was at the library the next afternoon and had just finished watching a movie. As I left, I encountered the previous night's escort. We were friends, before I understood that being just friends with single guys usually means that they have a crush on you. The escort said, "Hey Jane, that weird guy that you were talking to last night is down in the lobby looking for you. I think he likes you."

So I walk downstairs to the lobby and there he is. A tall, skinny blond guy who tried to act surprised to see me (he's since told me that he never set foot in the library and had called my brother and room-mate to find me). He said that there was a new show on Fox called The Simpsons. A couple friends were coming to his dorm room to drink and watch the show, did I want to come?"

History was made. We were inseparable after that. He dropped a long-distance girlfriend and a "friends with benefits." I dropped my poor escort pretty quickly, even though it took him several months and a few early morning drunken phone calls to move on. It would have never happened with him, but I'm sure he'd cringe if he realized how he facilitated our meeting.

I feel vindicated a bit when I think that 15 years later, that cute guy and I are still watching The Simpsons together.

My life is fascinating.

posted by Zippy Buggleshorts @ Wednesday, July 20, 2005