One upon a time there was a young girl taking the trip of a lifetime. She stood there posing for the camera on top of a mountain, fulfilling a lifelong dream. Goal #6: "Climb the Alps." Check! Done! Wahoo! The smile on her face was forever memorialized onto the photograph. Tipping her head back, looking at the sky, she took a step backwards to take into her surroundings, and OH GROSS! Stepped right into mountain goat poop! Frantically trying to scrape it off of her shoe, she lost her balance on the steep mountain, tripped, fell, and rolled "As You Wish-style" down the side of the mountain, praying there weren't anymore piles of poop in her path. Coming to an anything but graceful stop several feet down in elevation, she looked up the mountain, Alp actually, and looked at her friends. Needless to say they were doubled over in laughter, taking more pictures of the memory than necessary. Really, this would be forever burned in their memories — did they have to waste good Kodak on it too? She had a feeling someone would be winning $10,000 on America's Funniest Home Videos if the video camera caught the full experience.
Same Girl, Different Continent
Looking up into the eyes of a very attractive young man, Annie was experiencing the exhilarating feeling of twitterpation, new lust, and heartburn. They had just enjoyed a very spicy meal at a local restaurant before taking a walk in a nearby park. Their faces sparkled in the moonlight, smiles from ear to ear. It wasn't their first date, and hopefully if things kept going this well, it wouldn't be their last date. It had been an unforgettable night. Goal #1 "Marry in the Temple" was getting just a little bit closer in sight. Focusing on the glistening blue eyes just inches from hers, she felt her heartbeat race just a little faster. And her heartburn sizzling away in her throat. He said something charming, and lightly reached for her hand. He leaned a little closer. "Wow, this heartburn is bad!" She thought to herself, but smiled back at him. He leaned a little closer. She burped. She burped badly. She burped up a spicy Thai meal that definitely tasted better the first time around. He laughed, gave it a score, then ranked it on his own personal scale. Definitely an unforgettable night.
Annie was a receptionist for a large construction company, where romance didn’t exactly abound. She sat in a big marble foyer, where dozens of clients, construction workers, customers, employees, etc., would walk past all day long. She spent her hours daydreaming about one of those big hunky construction workers walking in, possibly in a torn flannel shirt, hot and sweaty, tanned, with rippling muscles, saying something romantic, and whisking her off into the sunset. In some versions of this daydream there was a Navy officer’s hat as well, but not in every version.
One quiet afternoon, an unfamiliar young man walked into her foyer, waking her from her solitary revelry. He was hard to miss. He clearly was not one of the construction workers, and couldn’t be an employee or client either. The first thing she noticed was that he was skinny. Alarmingly thin, in fact. Her nurturing side wanted to take him home like a straggling stray kitten and give him a bowl of milk to fatten him up. The second thing she noticed was that he was wearing a bandana, pirate style, on his head. (This was long before Johnny Depp had made pirates cool.) And then she realized that he was looking at her expectantly, as if she were supposed to read his mind.
“Hello, my lovely,” said the do-ragged stranger.
She looked over my shoulder, hoping there was some damsel in distress he was speaking to. Sadly, there was no one there; all she saw was the reflection of a very skinny wannabe pirate, wearing jean shorts that appeared to have been ironed, with a plain white tee shirt and hiking boots. Despite the ensemble he wore, he still looked like he was more suited to be a college professor than a nature nut. Maybe it was the cleanliness of his shirt and shoes, but she just couldn’t see him roughing it in the Rockies.
“C-can I help you?” she stammered.
He reached out his hand. She hesitantly slowly offered hers to offer a friendly handshake, but he suddenly took her hand and kissed it. This was highly unusual behavior for a construction company foyer. “How does the world great you on this beautiful day?” What language was he speaking? And who the heck is he?
“I’m fine,” Annie said with uncertainty as she snatched her hand back as he began to massage it. The phone rang. Saved by the bell! She answered quickly, hoping that he would go away and about his business if I started working. The phone call wasn’t long enough. He was still there.
“Can I help you?” she tried again, hoping to jerk him back to reality with her pert, no-nonsense tone of voice.
“My loveliest Anne, I have come to inquire of your availability for a night at the opera in three days time.” He offered some sort of small bow as he spoke.
How did he know her name? What was going on here?
Suddenly, the phone rang again. She answered, hoping her voice didn’t sound as baffled as she felt. “Stanley Martin Companies, how may I help you?”
“Anne! Hey, it’s George!” Thankfully it was just a friend from church. She knew she could keep him on the phone faking a business conversation for as long as it takes to get rid of the pirate standing in front of her.
“HI! How are you?” She nearly pleaded into the phone.
“Hey, don’t have time to talk, but I just wanted to let you know that my roommate, Willis, is going to come over to ask you out today. Just thought you might want a heads up! Be good to him. Hasta!” Click. George was gone.
She slowly looked up at hand-kissing pirate in front of me. Was he George’s roommate?
“Was that George?” he asked.
“How did you know?” she inquired in turn.
“I could hear him.”
“Oh.” That simple syllable was all she could get out of her mouth. So, his name was Willis. She still didn’t know him from the man in the moon.
“Well, my fair lady, how do you feel about opera?” Willis asked.
“Um, the opera is nice, I guess. Depends on the opera,” she said very quietly and slowly. She wasn’t sure I wanted to do this. And was honesty always the best policy?
“Madame Butterfly is playing at Wolf Trap Park, and your acquaintance would be quite welcome.” He kept speaking as if he were re-writing a Shakespeare play.
Annie had never been to an opera, and Wolf Trap Park happened to be one of her favorite places to go see a show. It is an outdoor amphitheatre, where the stage is covered, but the audience sits on a hill. It was a popular practice to bring a picnic and eat while watching a concert and woo a date. It is romanced personified. Well, it couldn’t be that bad — how bad could a night at the opera at Wolf Trap be? I could do that. Besides, he knows George. He must be okay!
“George will be coming with us, along with his own lady friend for the evening,” Willis continued.
“Okay, that sounds nice. I can do that,” she said gamely.
“Delightful, my darling. I shall call on you at 5:00 p.m. and not a moment sooner.” Willis bowed gallantly, and backed out of the lobby, still wearing his pirate headdress. And with him went her daydream of a mysterious stranger appearing out of the blue and whisking her off into the sunset. Goal #7 on her list: get wooed by a complete stranger. Check!
The day that I realized I was “single” (because who are we kidding? I never planned on being single) I realized that I was going to need a plan to be a cool single. I was going to have big goals, and dreams, and a plan. About ten minutes later I burned dinner, and there went the big goal of not being the type of single that eats Lean Cuisine in front of the TV, and instead actually makes dinner with fresh vegetables. Actually, there was probably no hope for that goal. But it was about that time that I realized that single life was anything but predictable. If it were, Mr. Right would have stepped into my life approximately 4 years and 6 days ago, but who’s counting?
I think it was halfway down the Alps, still smelling the mountain goat poop (who knew that stuff could smell so bad?), that I realized the best memories in life are the ones you just enjoy, without over-planning them. Memories are only as fun as you want to remember them. Climbing a mountain was fun, but the video of my anything but graceful fall was funnier. Single life can be fun, if you let it. IF every memory you make is tainted by “but I only did it because I wasn’t married.” Or, “I can’t take that trip yet, I’m saving it for my honeymoon,” your life will never be as fun and exciting as it could have been.
So seize the day! Make some memories! Learn to laugh! Have some fun! Go out and start [attempting] to live out some of your dreams!! You’ll never know what you will find!!
This message brought to you by the happy memories of Erin and Juli, the letters C and M, and the number 30.
Feel free to send in your best memories gone awry (but only if they have a happy twist) to erinandjuli@meridianmagazine.com.
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