Cameron speaking.
I am about to break a couple of rules. First, I particularly enjoy my sister’s, Jane’s,
blog because of the ratio of photos to words.
I believe photos typically tell better stories than words and Jane tells
great stories with hers. So, back to the
rule breaking, I am going to do only words on this blog post. Second, I don’t typically like it when people
post overly lovey dovey stuff about their spouse. I mean, if you are truly trying to be
meaningful, keep it between the two of you.
Hypocritically, this post is about MY version of Lauren and I’s
beginning stages of our courtship. If
you’re like me, you should probably stop reading now.
So, there I was, a meager engineering intern working away at
my cubicle desk when in came walking a slightly freckled gal wearing paint
covered steel toe boots, worn out paint covered jeans, and an ultra bright
orange construction shirt. She was
incredibly attractive. You see, Lauren
and I both work for the City but in different departments. She in the streets department and myself in
the engineering department. It was my luck,
fate, blessing, that my department was borrowing her for the winter. That meant that she’d be coming through the
office several times each week.
Wait, wait, wait. Let
me pause the story. That was not the
first time I saw her. In the preceding
summer, I was out and about on my engineering duties when we drove past a city
paint crew painting a cross walk. In my brief
rubber neck moment, I noticed a very attractive slightly freckled gal painting
the road. Upon stopping shortly after to
talk to the second-in-command of the streets department, I very slyly asked
about the gal on the paint crew. Maybe I
wasn’t so sly because the fellow looked at me and replied “good luck”. That was that. I figured I’d never see her again.
Back to my “first” time seeing her. There she was, there I was, and I couldn’t
say a word. This happened more than a
few times. She’d come through to talk to
one of the inspectors whom she would spend the day working with and I’d do my
best to look busy (and therefore important) by picking up the phone and
carrying on conversations with a beeping tone about various calculations and
important projects. She’d walk away and
I would end my imaginary phone call while thinking “if only a guy like me could
have a chance with a gal like her”.
I wasn’t entirely chicken.
I was genuinely worried about potentially making a move to talk to
her. I worried about some sort of evil “no
dating coworkers” rule that would probably thwart my genius plans, of which I
had none. One day the planets aligned
and the inspector, we’ll call him Tom, asked me if I’d be interested in going
on a date with Lauren. I thought I responded
with a perfectly executed James Bond 007 cool reply. You see, I wanted to answer in the
affirmative, but not seem overly excitable.
Realistically I responded like a thirsty child who was just offered all
the soda pop in the world. So, Tom said
he’d ask if she’d be mutually interested.
I hardly slept that night.
Several years (days) went by, and no comment from Tom. I didn’t want to press him. I thought maybe he asked her and she
declined. Maybe he didn’t bring it up
again in order to avoid hurting my feelings.
Maybe he found out that there is indeed an evil no-dating rule in the
City. Maybe she hated bald guys or
thought engineers were losers. Maybe she
was adverse to dating or studying to become a nun. Finally Tom let me know that he did ask her and
that she seemed willing to go on a date with me. That’s when the cunning plans began to
develop.
You see, I couldn’t simply ask her out. No, no.
That would surely fail. No, the
approach would have to be worthy of a blockbuster movie, epic in ingenuity, ambitious
in effort. And it had to be done on the
sly, in case she’d catch wind of the cunning plot and run for her single life. Eventually the office boys and I went to
lunch upon which Tom let me know that he was to work with Lauren after
lunch. The plan was to return to the
office early so that I could be at my desk looking important when Lauren would
walk in. Tom would then apologize to her
while leaving to take care of a few last minute details. I would bravely and coolly introduce myself
and hopefully chit chat with her while Tom was away. With our plans established we returned to the
office as planned. I walked in the door
and immediately found myself face to face with Lauren, who had happened to
arrive early herself. That’s where my
James Bond confidence left all-together.
I vaguely remember gurgling some sort of greeting before quickly side
stepping her and diving for the sanctuary of my cubicle. Tom, somewhat startled, moved forward with
the plan and left the area. I gathered
up my pitiful confidence and invited Lauren to sit down near my desk. After pausing to think about it for the
longest 2.74 seconds of my life, she accepted my offer and sat down with me at
my desk. I then began to do my best to
make small chat. To my horror, the well-meaning
receptionist came over and took immediate control of the conversation. My window of opportunity collapsed. After a few minutes of chaotic conversation
Tom came back and they left. I was
fairly disappointed in the conversation portion of the plan but was relieved
that I found enough courage to invite her to sit down.
Several days later Tom and I were scheming about the next
step. The new plan was for Tom to
schedule an afternoon with Lauren and then to have to cancel at the last
second, leaving no one to work with Lauren.
That is, unless I had time in my busy schedule to step in. So, Lauren showed up, Tom bowed out and asked
her if it would be ok if I worked with her for the afternoon. She replied that that would be fine. He then asked me (part of the plan) if that
would be fine. I checked my fictitiously
busy schedule and said I could squeeze it in.
So off we went in her work truck. We went about inspecting storm drains; all
the while we made small talk. At one
point we had to track down a storm drain pipe that went down a decently steep ravine. Upon walking back up the ravine, I attempted
to carry on a conversation with her while maintaining a normal breathing cycle
in the hopes that I wouldn’t look like the hopelessly out-of-shape chap that I
was. I nearly collapsed a lung. I was absolutely dying. By the time we reached the top I was drenched
in sweat (it was frigid cold), nearly blacking out, and my lungs were on fire. We climbed into the truck and upon closing my
door my half of the cab windows instantaneously fogged up. And so the day went on, me attempting to keep
up with her work pace, and her pleasantly doing her job. At the end of the day I told her it was a
pleasure to work with her. I wondered if
I should ask her on a date but chickened out largely based on the assumption
that she probably didn’t date coworkers.
That night I couldn’t sleep.
Again. I wallowed in my lack of
confidence and wondered if I’d ever get another chance. The next day, whether by design or by
coincidence I’m not sure, I got to work with Lauren again. We spent the afternoon doing the same work as
before. At one point I dropped a tape
measure down one of the storm drains and we had to work together to fish it
out. We had pleasant conversation the
entire time and I enjoyed myself. I was surprised
how quickly comfortable I was coming to feel around her.
That day we used my work van and at the end of the day I
walked her to her truck. Those last few
yards to her truck were absolutely torturous.
I was frantically arguing with myself in my mind about whether I should
ask her out or not. It was an emotional battle
of grand proportions as I madly summoned all the courage I could muster. I stopped eight feet from her truck, not
wanting her to feel crowded. She walked
to the door. This was it. Do or die.
Prevail or fail. Attempt and go
down in flames or remain silent and feel the cowardly shame. I paused and she paused… What was this? Was she purposefully fidgeting with her
keys? Is she giving me a sign? Could it possibly be that she wants me to ask
her out to dinner? Could it be imaginable
that this bald fellow has actually succeeded?
Probably not. But not wanting to
spend weeks and months hating myself for chickening out, I very smoothly and
confidently coughed out something that resembled a request for a date. Amazingly, she accepted.
