The Day We Met...
With James Bond-like purpose, I walked into the classroom and noticed that "she" could not take her eyes off of me. She was lost deep in thought as though she had been staring for several minutes. I thought to myself, "she's cute, but she looks a little sneaky." Despite the sneakiness, I approached and introduced myself. I played it very cool - "Hello, my name is Robert, nice to meet you." It was obvious that "she" was taken by my cool, calm, and collected demeanor. She struggled to get the words out - "H,H,H, Hi, m,m, my name is R, Rachel." I engaged in what I wanted her to believe was meaningless, get-to-know-you banter. It was actually deep psychological probing. Every word was carefully calculated to elicit her innermost thoughts. It worked. I knew then and there, that she believed I was the one. To her, it was love at first sight. To me, potential existed, but I was wary of the sneakiness.
The Ensuing Months...
I played the next few months about as smooth as humanly possible, like Cary Grant in his prime. She, like a schoolgirl in love for the first time, became even more enamored. She often asked me to go to lunch with her or to walk her to class, which I did. Sometimes I would carry her books, or give her my coat to wear on cold days (because cold doesn't affect me). Once, I carried her and her backpack to the cafeteria. My Arnold-like strength made her sigh. One day, she asked me to a dance which she claimed was for school credit. I knew that it was a ploy to get me to hold her. We went to the dance and I showed her my Fred Astair-like moves. She said, "I've never seen such masculine dancing." I replied, "that was nothing, I'm actually at my best on a hardwood floor, in a tuxedo."
The Cold Sets In...
The school-year passed and real-life was about to take hold. She was accepted to a graduate program in a land far away in terms of both geography and civilization. She struggled mightily with the decision to leave but I reassured her that as time passed, so too would her attachment to me. Secretly, though, I knew it would make her want me more. She left. Then the cold set in, both physically, because she went to a cold, dark, desolate place, and emotionally because she could not be near me. Many days as she trudged through the knee-high snow, she day-dreamed of my warm embrace. She later told me "those thoughts were the only things that kept me going in that land of cheese, bratwursts, and giants."
She Returns...
Two years passed, which to her felt like two decades. The moment her plane landed, she called. She goaded me into taking her to the beach. I hung up the phone and knew that this was the day she would make her move. I was right. We arrived at the beach sometime after midnight. We took off our shoes and walked down to the shore. A warm, gentle wind wrapped us like a parka that had been sitting next to a fire - it was the warmest she had been in two years. I turned to her and saw that she was already looking at me. She thought, "finally, I have you." Then, with an Audrey Hepburn-like girlishness, she kissed me. I didn't resist. I wrapped one arm around her, dipped her, and kissed her. Her glow reminded me of the ring of light around a full moon.
The Day I knew...
One month had passed since the night on the beach. She had known for years that I was the one. I realized she was the one on a sunny afternoon in a garden. She picked a flower and smelled it. I thought, "she's as gentle as the flower." Her plan to get me finally succeeded.
The Proposal...
I took her back to the spot on the beach. I told her, "your plan worked." She said, "I'm sneaky." I said, "I knew it!" Then, a kiss, and the deal was sealed.
With James Bond-like purpose, I walked into the classroom and noticed that "she" could not take her eyes off of me. She was lost deep in thought as though she had been staring for several minutes. I thought to myself, "she's cute, but she looks a little sneaky." Despite the sneakiness, I approached and introduced myself. I played it very cool - "Hello, my name is Robert, nice to meet you." It was obvious that "she" was taken by my cool, calm, and collected demeanor. She struggled to get the words out - "H,H,H, Hi, m,m, my name is R, Rachel." I engaged in what I wanted her to believe was meaningless, get-to-know-you banter. It was actually deep psychological probing. Every word was carefully calculated to elicit her innermost thoughts. It worked. I knew then and there, that she believed I was the one. To her, it was love at first sight. To me, potential existed, but I was wary of the sneakiness.
The Ensuing Months...
I played the next few months about as smooth as humanly possible, like Cary Grant in his prime. She, like a schoolgirl in love for the first time, became even more enamored. She often asked me to go to lunch with her or to walk her to class, which I did. Sometimes I would carry her books, or give her my coat to wear on cold days (because cold doesn't affect me). Once, I carried her and her backpack to the cafeteria. My Arnold-like strength made her sigh. One day, she asked me to a dance which she claimed was for school credit. I knew that it was a ploy to get me to hold her. We went to the dance and I showed her my Fred Astair-like moves. She said, "I've never seen such masculine dancing." I replied, "that was nothing, I'm actually at my best on a hardwood floor, in a tuxedo."
The Cold Sets In...
The school-year passed and real-life was about to take hold. She was accepted to a graduate program in a land far away in terms of both geography and civilization. She struggled mightily with the decision to leave but I reassured her that as time passed, so too would her attachment to me. Secretly, though, I knew it would make her want me more. She left. Then the cold set in, both physically, because she went to a cold, dark, desolate place, and emotionally because she could not be near me. Many days as she trudged through the knee-high snow, she day-dreamed of my warm embrace. She later told me "those thoughts were the only things that kept me going in that land of cheese, bratwursts, and giants."
She Returns...
Two years passed, which to her felt like two decades. The moment her plane landed, she called. She goaded me into taking her to the beach. I hung up the phone and knew that this was the day she would make her move. I was right. We arrived at the beach sometime after midnight. We took off our shoes and walked down to the shore. A warm, gentle wind wrapped us like a parka that had been sitting next to a fire - it was the warmest she had been in two years. I turned to her and saw that she was already looking at me. She thought, "finally, I have you." Then, with an Audrey Hepburn-like girlishness, she kissed me. I didn't resist. I wrapped one arm around her, dipped her, and kissed her. Her glow reminded me of the ring of light around a full moon.
The Day I knew...
One month had passed since the night on the beach. She had known for years that I was the one. I realized she was the one on a sunny afternoon in a garden. She picked a flower and smelled it. I thought, "she's as gentle as the flower." Her plan to get me finally succeeded.
The Proposal...
I took her back to the spot on the beach. I told her, "your plan worked." She said, "I'm sneaky." I said, "I knew it!" Then, a kiss, and the deal was sealed.
At least I'm still your boss . . . .
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