[Yup. A love-themed re-post.)
Bow Tie is new to our house and doesn’t know much about our history of how Suzanne and I first met. Fortunately, I can still remember that long ago.
‘Twas 1983 when Suzanne and I kind of met. We were both wee pups attending Weber State University (Weber State College, at the time). It was fall quarter, in a class called Poetry Writing. I was minding my own business, just sitting in the desk closest to the door, waiting for the first class to begin. In walked Suzanne at the last moment. She scooted between my desk and the chair in front of me, to find a seat on the other side of the packed classroom. Yes, I noticed her the very first moment I saw her. I noticed her every day of fall quarter. I noticed her cowboy boots. I noticed her jeans and t-shirts. I noticed her brown eyes. I noticed her elegant hands. Did she notice me? Nope. Not at all. And I mean NOT AT ALL. To this day, she still doesn’t remember I was in that class with her.
Fast forward a year, to fall quarter 1984. 20th Century European History. First day of class. Again, I’m sitting in the desk nearest the door. Class begins, and in walks Suzanne. Once again she scoots past me, between my desk and the chair in front of me. Same elegant hands. Classes happen for weeks. One day, the professor asked me a question about my being from Delta, and I answered something silly, but irreverent. (No, I can’t repeat it.) It was funny enough that Suzanne finally noticed me. But we still didn’t talk. We just smiled at each other in class and in the halls.
And then one day soon after the snark incident, we ran into each other in the WSU library. We started to talk, and then we spoke, and then we conversed, yada yada yada. We stood talking for hours, bothering the other library-goers. Why we didn’t find a place to sit down is beyond me, but we were so entranced by our conversation that we didn’t notice whole hours were passing. We don’t remember anything specific that we talked about, but we remember we talked about everything.
And then I graduated from WSU a few weeks later, and moved to SLC for Graduate School at the U of U. Suzanne still had a year left at Weber. She occasionally trekked to SLC to visit me at the Ruth Apartments on 3rd South—a big ancient house, where I lived on the top floor with my rubber Gumby and Pokey figures.
That summer, I mailed Suzanne a letter, finally asking her out. I did not have the courage to do it in person. And then we got an apartment together on 8th East. And the next year, we got another apartment on 9th East. (We called that apartment The Kingdom of Scary Yellow Carpet. We couldn’t walk on the shag carpet with our shoes off because it shot carpet slivers into our feet.) Suzanne was finished with her degree at WSU, but was saving bucks to go back to school to get her teaching credentials. She worked as a lifeguard, and at a camera store. I worked at a magazine, and went to Graduate School in Creative Writing. I also taught at the U of U. Life was good.
And then a thing happened. It was entirely my fault. I take full responsibility for it. I was a full-fledged dope. But it caused us to take a break from each other. For 13 years.
In the next post, Part 2, I will explain how Suzanne and I met for the second time—the time that stuck. Second time was the charm.