Three States Away

It’s not something I like to admit, but I was in a firefighter calendar. However, it’s not something I would normally do. But that was the whole idea, pull myself out of my comfort zone and drop myself in places where I wouldn’t normally go, different places where I could meet someone. I’m a fairly shy person when it comes to approaching women, this would hopefully create openings.

There were firefighters that used this as a hook-up aid. Hook-ups were offered to me, but I wasn’t looking for that. There were individuals that used it for a pulpit to tell people about something they supported or, for instance, to show how an older person could do this just as well. Not me either. I just wanted to get out of my day-to-day rhythm, which wasn’t working. I had tried blind dates, I had tried internet dating, I was on the front edge of that, and nothing was getting me that person I was looking for.

I wasn’t the only person with this idea, there was another guy in the calendar that had similar ideals, a similar reason for doing what we did. And we would often sit and talk about what we were looking for. One such evening happened on November 9th, 2002, at a charity auction in downtown Seattle.

I could tell you how that evening went. About my reluctance to go in the first place, but how I went after all. How there were major traffic events that blocked the northern and southern routes into the city. Or how those accidents left the first part of the auction nearly void of people. I could then add what my friend asked me right when she walked in the room. None of that was important, what was important was that she walked into the room.

Her participation that night was almost cancelled as well. She was in town to visit her sister, and her sister was slated to volunteer at this event, but they almost ditched it to spend their time other ways.

During that empty opening hour my firefighter friend had little to do but talk. While we sat at our table he asked, “What is your type of woman?” Oh wait, I said I wasn’t going to say what he asked when she walked in, oops. Anyhow, that question was asked at the very moment these two women walked through the door at the far end of the room. Both of them were dressed in lovely dresses, it was an extravagant evening after all.

Without hesitation I responded “Her. That’s my type right there.” She looked sweet, smart, and down to earth. My friend quickly suggested I go talk to her and learn more, I had to take his advice.

One thing led to another, and in the absence of any guests I struck up a conversation. In that brief time, I managed to say the one and only perfect line I’ve ever uttered to try to get her number. Did it work? Not quite yet. As the evening went on however, we kept talking, I kept visiting her and she me. It may have been the fact that I delivered them a drink now and again. It may have been the moment we bonded over a live bald eagle they were guarding. It was going to be part of the zoo’s portion of the auction later. All I know is that we were both curious.

In the end, we exchanged numbers, and she even gave me her email address. We also made a plan for a drink the following night. It would be her last night in town before flying home. After time to think, and I really can’t blame her, she figured I was a player. What would I possibly want with a girl that lived three states away, the answer had to have been only one thing. With that thought, she left me a message cancelling the planned date. She flew out of town, and that was it.

That wasn’t quite it though. I had a lot of fun talking with her, I liked her, and I can tell you exactly what I wanted with a girl three states away. I wanted everything. Fortunately, I still had her email.

The next day I took the initiative and emailed her. She responded. Something started with those first emails. And it continued day after day. We had both been married before, her with a six-year-old son. It was likely because we were both married before, that we were both comfortable asking anything and everything to try to get to the root of this other person… three states away. There was a book I have somewhere it’s titled, “A Thousand Questions to ask a Future Partner,” or something like that. I think we asked our thousand questions in our daily back-and-forth correspondence.

Each day more and more messages were passed back and forth to each other’s in-box. I could enter them all here. I could show you everything we asked and out answers. I printed them all out one day and stored them in a box, they were the start of everything. Our emails got longer and longer, our questions deeper and deeper. After a couple weeks, we started talking on the phone. It’s one thing to email someone about anything, it’s another to interact with them more personally. Our nightly talks were a great addition to our daily electronic communication.

There was one big problem. We were still three states away. A face-to-face date wasn’t an easy thought. We couldn’t just drive and meet for coffee, to take this thing, whatever it was, to the next level. But I wanted that. I could, at the time, only assume she wanted that too.

One night, the Sunday before Thanksgiving, we were having our nightly phone call and she asked, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” It was just a question, just her making conversation.

It just so happened that I had my vacation time scheduled for the next two weeks. And my family was all out of town, so my response was, “Absolutely nothing.”

And, I would soon learn, it would also be the case for her. She was also going to be alone. Her son was with his dad for the weekend, and her parents were travelling with friends. The next thing out of her mouth may have been a joke, may have been an invitation. I looked at it as the later. “You should fly down, and we can have Thanksgiving together.”

I simply responded, “Hang on, I’ll call you right back.” Then I went to work. I searched the internet for flights and quickly found a round trip flight, leaving on Thanksgiving morning, for $124. Wow, I can’t ignore that. So, I bought it. The ticket had me staying the weekend in her area, but that allowed for four days of dating. Not a bad first date.

When I called her back, I told her the flight could be cancelled, but I couldn’t turn it down. In Seattle you would almost spend that on dinner and a couple drinks. It wasn’t surprising, after all our questions and all our answers, that she was excited to spend Thanksgiving with a not so complete stranger from three states away.

Only a couple days later, the small hopper plane landed at her local airport, and I stepped off. She was there to meet me, and she looked just as I remembered her that first night. The big difference being that now I knew she was sweet, smart, and down to earth. She also wasn’t wearing the fancy dress from the upscale auction, but she didn’t need it. It wasn’t her dress anyway.

She made ham that night, we both love ham. It was a perfect first date that had us talking until 4 am. We didn’t want to stop ourselves but eventually had to call it a night. She had a spare bedroom that I used for that weekend. I appreciated seeing her day in and day out. It was a great continuation to our constant contact from the past few weeks.

A story like this should end with a happy ending. An ending where we fall in love, are still married, and are great friends to this day. If it didn’t, it would be a terrible love story.

Fortunately, that is how this story ends. We were married nine months later in The Little White Wedding Chapel in Vegas, neither of us needed a big wedding, we just needed each other. That summer we moved her, and her son, across those three states. And, as mentioned, we’re still married today, twenty-one years later, and we’re lucky to not only still be in love, but we’re also best friends.