I have a folder of photos from October that I haven’t edited yet and last night I found this one of Mark. Did I ever tell you about the first time we met? I’m sure I have, I’ve been blogging a long time now but I am doing NaBloPoMo and I have to talk about something, so humor me. I have to hone this telling so that by the time my grand kids hear it, they will think that sparks literally flew when our eyes met and all that jazz…
Allow me to set the scene…
I was working in the mall at a store called Maurices. I was the top seller of floor-length leather coats that season, do you remember those? (Can I suggest this bottle of leather spray to prevent cracking and repel water?) and I sold so many coats that I won the privilege of carrying the tiny coat key around my wrist, rather than call a manager to unlock the coats every time I sold one. I could talk someone into 2 pairs of coordinating socks like I had a Master’s Degree in “upselling” (you needed two pair, in coordinating colors, so you could layer them…duh)
It was 1993 and I was an 18-year old with big bangs and a questionable fashion style. No really, I wore long flowered-dresses, kitten heels and hats. I was a slightly more attractive version of Blossom. I usually worked evenings because I was in college full-time but for some odd reason I was working a day shift in the middle of the week. The assistant manager had a hilariously obnoxious crush on the UPS guy and I had yet to see this man that made her heart miss a beat. “You have to go and get the back door when he rings the bell and tell me what you think!” she told me. “He has the shiniest brown hair and he’s so tan with a mustache and oh his eyes are like dark pools of…” she went on and on.
When I heard the stockroom buzzer, we both squealed and I ran back and threw open the door. I was expecting a dark-haired delivery man but instead, there stood a fair-skinned guy with startling blue eyes and blonde spiked hair. “Oh!” I exclaimed, “well you’re not who I expected.” and he replied, “…is that a good or bad thing?” and then he winked at me.
There was small talk and he unloaded a stack of boxes and left. The manager was disappointed that “her” UPS man was not delivering that day, she was looking forward to checking him out from the front of the store as he eventually came around and made inside deliveries, so there was some pouting. We still sold the heck out of the stirrup pants and fluffy sweaters, we were pros.
Days later, on a truly terrible day in my life, I ran into an ex-boyfriend while walking in that same mall and with him was that blonde UPS guy from a few days earlier. “Hey!” we both exclaimed…..and the rest is history.
I married the UPS guy.
I’m pretty sure my assistant manager married a plumber.