Shere Khan and The First Date.

While working at a job that I hated with the core of my being, I decided that I needed to get out more. Twelve hour shifts, six days a week, at a factory that cared little for me except whether I was on time or not, sick or not, or whether or not I caused any problems was drowning my soul. This was my first introduction to the world of work.

Still, there was some kind of hope. I had some friends in town that I would make a point to visit on the rare occasion I had a day off. My friend, Shere Khan, and I shared a love of television and computers. And because we were mutually bored on our days off, we visited each other to enjoy our hobbies with some pizza and beverages. As it happened, Shere Khan and I had both known her from a few years back, and because she lived in town, it seemed natural to call her up and invite her over to hang out. It didn't take long for me to become enchanted with her. (See post Knowing Love.) Soon, my desire to hang out with Shere Khan transformed into my desire to hang out with Shere Khan so we could invite her over to hang out.

The three of us developed the habit of hanging out in coffee shops to talk about things that seemed very important back then. Perhaps all young people talk about such things in a way that always seems novel, but is really foolish. Most of my excitement at hanging out together was the anticipation of being with her. I would sneak stares at her from the corner of my eye and tried to engage her in conversation. Frequently, because we were younger, our conversation turned toward relationships, and I would usually describe myself as the most understanding, gallant man a woman would ever hope to meet. But, the reality of the situation was that I used Shere Khan to be with her, not so gallant an action after all. The few times that she couldn't hang out with Shere Khan and me were deeply disappointing, and I don't think I hid my disappointment well. Shere Khan must have suspected that I was just visiting him to be with her. I still feel a little guilty about that. I haven't talked to Shere Khan in over three years, and the reality of the situation is knowing that perhaps I never will.

However, during those times, I often had the chance to talk with her as we were both leaving to go home. When midnight or 1:00 a.m. rolled around, we said goodbye to Shere Khan, whose apartment was the common meeting ground for us three, and then she and I talked to each other as I escorted her to her car. These talks grew longer and longer, until one night, we noticed that day was beginning to dawn, and that we had stayed up the entire night talking in the parking lot. The depth of my love for her was evident by the fact that I did not get tired talking to her, even though I generally like to go to bed pretty early. I was intoxicated by her presence, her attention. The excitement of talking with her was all I needed to keep sleep away.

Of course, this increasing attraction for her was becoming more intense, and it made it hard for me to concentrate on anything else. I am not normally a bold person, but I decided to visit her at her house and ask her out on a date. And of course, this is what I did. She was shocked when she opened the door, but she tells me that once she saw me standing there, she knew what I wanted. Initially, she was guarded when I told her how I felt, but she agreed to go out with me and I couldn't have been happier. If I could go back and do things over again, the only thing I would change would be the level of formality in our first meetings. For instance, I would have brought flowers and spent about $100 or more on our first real date. I now know she would have liked that, even if it might have made her more suspicious. Still, I cherish these memories.