drive up in your little red BMW. All the way to the very back of the driveway, I could never figure that one out. Even when there was a space right out front, you'd keep on going.
Then you'd walk in. I'd act cool and casual. Probably like I didn't even see you. I thought
I was obvious, then I would have to be even cooler. I just liked you. You made me smile.
I would be tortured if you didn't sit on my station, my side of the restaurant. I'd try to
guide you over with my witty remarks. When you brought your girlfriend in, that tortured me.
I knew you were a couple, but I had finally gotten my freedom. I'm sorry, but I was
a smitten 20 year old who didn't get the two of you together. I was polite when you
both came in, but I never got why you were so humorless. Alone, you were a firecracker.
It was so difficult the times you did come in alone. You would be so chatty, funny.
Terribly confusing. We were always very proper with each other. You still thought
I was married. I didn't know you had split with your little lady. What was up with us?
We would laugh and joke about everything, but never get around to the fact that we
dug each other. Okay, I will say I dug you first, but I know the real truth fella!
I never wanted you to leave when you came in for breakfast. Bacon, eggs, OJ and coffee.
Oops, don't forget that wheat toast.
I remember the first time you asked me out. We finally both figured out we were freebirds.
You invited me down to your office at the Bradbury Building. I acted like I knew what the hell
the Bradbury Building was. Went their often with my other waitress friends.
Maybe some Temple City Homeys. I probably had been to downtown LA once, and never by
myself. I was so excited, yet horrified. To meet you downtown. Whoa, this was the big time.
I had no idea what people wore to downtown. I searched my closet for the proper downtown
wear. I found a long yellow skirt and blazer. Seemed very downtownish. I had never worn my
hair down in front of you, so this slightly freaked me out. I know this sounds odd, but being a waitress, I had to wear my hair in a bun every day. My hair was very long, so I almost felt naked.... a different person with it down, so revealing. Plus my downtownwear. You had always seen me
in my Francisco's uniform.. you were my customer, and I liked you. Deadly combo for
breaking walls down. Plus you were the cutest boy/ man. I was just coming out of a marriage,
at the ripe old age of 20. I was scared.
The lunch was fabulous, it felt terribly fancy. I thought you were so sophisticated.
Being a downtowner and you were older than me. Hmmmm.
I think you were wearing your brown cords, with a blazer kind of jacket, too.
I thought you were the cutest,most adorable, scary ....... I am in giant trouble.
How could I possibly like and have fun with the same person I was going out with.
I had married The Marlboro Man last pass, good times. This fellow liked to laugh
and talk and feel and was still a man. Hmmmm?
When the time came for me to travel back to reality land, you asked me out again.
Now, for certain I had grace and charm and was a whiz with words. I insulted you,
and you never called me. This perplexed me. I couldn't figure it out. So I called you
a week or so later. Had I no pride? I kinda thought you dug me. You were quick to inform me of the insult. I thought you knew I was kidding. So to make up for my atrocious behavior,
I invited you out for an evening. How we have been married 26 years, and ever reached the second date, I'll never know. One of my waitress gal pals had just given birth.
I thought it would be a great idea to swing by the hospital and hang out, sit a spell.
This poor guy probably wanted to flee, thought he was on a reality TV show, something.
Who thinks that is cool on a second date? His little gal, his bride, the one who loves him.
I think back to where and how it all started for us, two crazy kids. No matter the highs and lows, I love my Raymond. Even when we infuriate the hell out of each other, we eventually start laughing. I think it is fair to say I torture him more, being an extrovert.
I can just imagine the eye rolling going on. I guess my incessant talking is the equivalent
of his motor boat snoring. That's love.
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