Twenty-six years ago, Cinco de Mayo fell on a Friday. It was a rainy day, the weather on the cusp of bursting into summer weather. But that day, it was a little chilly, and very gray. A week before, I had moved out of my parents house, a little overdue for the move, considering I was already 25. I was living in a tiny apartment in an old South Philly neighborhood, not far from South Street and the Italian market. I worked for an insurance company, where my paycheck afforded a lifestyle that included weekly trips to the Limited Express for clothing, chinese food for lunch everyday, $290. per month rent, and evenings out as a young, single girl in the city.
Nineteen years ago today, I was elated to finally be out on my own, and to celebrate, Irisa and another friend (what was her name?) came to see my pad, and walk over to JC Dobbs, to see Irisa's favorite band at the time, The Rivals. We spent a lot of time at rock and roll clubs, and had our favorite bands, Tommy Conwell, The Hooters, The Rivals...
The Rivals were a poppy 80's band by anyones standards, The band members wore mullets, with plenty of mousse to extend the top of their heads, diamond stud earrings, tight ljeans, metal belts, brightly colored shirts. We loved going to see them, and stand in the front and make eye contact with the band members.
The band was playing at JC Dobbs, and they were probably a little ill-suited for that venue. Dobbs, a philly institution, was a down and dirty rock club. Nirvana had played there before they were well known, as well as a host of other famous bands.
Normally, when I went out, I was hoping, maybe to meet a guy, so I'd get dolled up, and do a lot of eyelash batting. This particular evening, however, I was just about DONE with men. I had been hurt one time too many by other boyfriends, and I just felt finished. I wore old jeans, a tank top, bo-bo sneakers, and a blazer.
We arrived at the club and just hung out for a while chatting together. A large group of guys and girls walked in a little later, and they looked a little clean cut for the down and dirty atmosphere of JC Dobbs. One guy, taller than the rest, light haired, came in with a big smile on his face, a green sweater with a white turtleneck underneath and he was palling around with another girl. Though they were together, I got the distinct impression, that it was a platonic relationship, even though they hugged several times.
I leaned over to Irisa, and commented, "that guy is SOOOOO cute". Too bad he's too young for me. He looked about 22 and just out of college. Maybe a preppy fraternity type. He would definitely not be attracted to a little short Jewish girl from the suburbs. But he was so cute.
I couldn't stop looking at him, but could not work up the courage to go up and say hello. He had some other friends there, and one particular guy, seemed goofy and approachable, so I figured, maybe I can get an introduction through the goofy, approachable guy.
I approached this guy, who spoke like a surfer dude and informed me that his name was Crank. (I later found out that his name was Craig, I just didn't really understand him). We chatted for a while, and just like I planned, I was able to get intro to the cute tall blonde guy. He was holding two drinks, when "Crank" intoduced me to him.
"This is my friend, Gregg". Gregg looked down and juggled his glasses to free up a hand to shake mine. His eyes had a sparkle that made me smile, and I immediately felt comfortable in his presence.
He walked away, soon after our introduction, and I thought, well, "he's just not that into me."
A little later, I went to the bar to get a beer, and I peered down to my right, and saw Gregg standing there. I gave him a little wave, and he waved back and motioned to the bartender that he wanted to pay for my drink.
He came over to me, and asked me to dance. I was so surprised, because he actually could dance, which pretty unusual for most men. As we danced to the music, I inexplicably uttered my first words ever to my future husband, which to this day I find cheesy and embarrassing.
"You're a really good dancer...for a guy" Way to win him over, Lori.
Soon after, the band took a break and we went to the side of the stage to chat. I sat on a step, and he leaned on a rafter, looking down at me. He was so gorgeous, I couldn't believe he was talking to me. But, I started my interview.
"How old are you? What do you do for a living? Where do you live?"
28, Vice President of a printing company, South Jersey.
Pretty good credentials, I thought, not the 22 year old frat boy that I thought he was.
We spent the rest of the evening together, and when the bar was ready to close, we weren't ready to stop hanging out.
The girl he had arrived with, her name, Terri, came over to talk to me. She was very pretty, with light brown hair and gorgeous light eyes. She seemed friendly and intelligent, and frankly, like someone I'd be friends with. With both of her hands she grabbed mine. The looked at me, with a serious and heartfelt look, said,
"I want you to know,
he's the nicest guy in the world". Wow. He must be a great guy, I thought, and it pretty much sealed the fact that, to get a recommendation from a cool girl like this, I was pretty lucky.
We ended up hanging out at my apartment after the bar closed. I told him, "I want to hang out, but I'm not like...THAT". He assured me with his smile that he was a gentleman, and thankfully, my instincts were right.
We left the club, and stopped at a Wawa across the street. We bought ice cream sundae fixings and walked in the pouring rain back to my apartment. We began our relationship by eating junk food at my kitchen table. We stayed up talking for the rest of the night.
Nineteen years, three children, two dogs, and one fish later, we are still here.
Once in a while, I look over at him and think, "he's just some guy I met in a bar". And boy, was I lucky to be there, Nineteen Years Ago Today.
Hayley is fully ensconced in a new life, a new journey; one that she chose, regardless of the advice of her elders. Regardless of the "order" of things. She has embraced a life that is her own. And though a piece of this anxious Jewish Mother wants her right back next to me, cradled in my arms, saying goodnight to the moon and the stars; I know that she is happy.
