Three Years Ago Today . . .

March 02, 2005
It was a Saturday. I was sitting at my apartment near the LSU campus pretty much twiddling my thumbs. After lunch, when I was sick of flipping the channels, I decided to get online and lo and behold – I was instant messaged.

Sad, but I can’t remember his aol handle. Anyway – he told me that he’d been trying to call me but that my sister kept saying that I was out of town or at some guy’s house. Did I still want to talk?

Sure I wanted to talk.

Should he call me?

Okay – I im’ed him my number and quickly got offline – still using dialup.

And so the phone rang and I answered, trying to say “hello” in the sexiest way a girl could – you know – make the voice sound a bit deep and yet – kittenish, like you’re unsure.

Heeeey.

That was the first thing he ever said to me.

I liked his voice. After a few minutes, I felt like I knew him. Our conversation jumped from one thing to another with no awkward pauses or silences. “This guy is cool” I thought.

“So you have any plans tonight?” – he asked with confidence.

“Well . . .” I paused, trying to sound as if I had a calendar to check or something.

“Well, you’ve got plans now.” he said, smugly.

“Oh really??” I said – flirtatiously. (Are you gagging yet???)

And so we agreed to meet at the Macaroni Grill.

I got into the shower and began singing (as I usually did when I was preparing for a date with someone I met online) “Sixteen Going on Seventeen” during the shampooing and “Someone to Watch Over Me” during the shaving.

I put on a black sweater, jeans and black boots with heels (kinda sexy). My hair was curly then. I threw on my long duster sweater before heading out. So off I went to the Macaroni Grill – unusually calm on the way over. I remember that as I parked my car, “Girl on Aisle Ten” by Scapegoat Wax was playing on the college radio station. I scanned the lot for him, but didn’t see anyone.

As I approached the front entrance, I saw him. He was wearing a navy blue long sleeved rugby style shirt with and a pair of brown corduroy pants. As soon as our eyes met, I remember thinking, “Now this is more like it.” He was a big guy – football player-ish and cute- quite unlike the duds I’d been hooking up with that I had already met through matchmaker.

I can only describe the look on his face as “stunned.” He now says that it’s because he couldn’t believe how beautiful I was (awwww.) I thought it was because I was fatter than he’d imagined. Guess I’ll choose to believe him.

“Hi, I’m Chad.”

“Hey – I’m Ginger.”

We shook hands and smiled.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

4:55 p.m. ::
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