I am a very lucky lady. At the ripe old age of “mumble mumble” I met a wonderful guy. My sister would occasionally drop his name, saying she’d known him for 20 years. She said he was a great person and suggested I should meet him. Since she was pretty cool and low-key about the whole thing, I took the bait. I asked, “Does he have a Facebook page?” Darned if he didn’t. You’d think that was a question only a 20-something would ask, but you can learn A LOT about a person from their Facebook page. (Young folks, pay attention – employers do this ALL the time!)
He had a great smile, looked like a nice person and he was in a uniform — a military man!
Lo and behold a few weeks later, this same sister invited me to a Military Appreciation Day concert downtown. Pretty much the whole fam-damily would be coming and we’d meet for dinner beforehand. Then she dropped the bomb: “Oh yeah, and Doug’s coming.”
Oh cripes. A set up. “Don’t you dare make me sit next to him,” I scolded. There’s nothing I hate more than personal pressure. “No pressure. You can sit wherever you want,” she said. When the big night came, we all had a great time. He was a wonderful conversationalist and paid a lot of attention to my Mom, which of course, we all noticed and appreciated. Mom liked him. Dad liked him. So did I. Later, I learned he told my sister, “I like your family a lot. But I REALLY like your sister!”
We swapped business cards, a quick email the next day and that was it. But a month later, out of the blue came a text: “Would you like to go to supper with me sometime?” Would I? WOULD I? Of course I would! And we did. Quite a few times actually. Until it became a wonderful habit, along with texts, flowers and great conversations.
And surprises. The guy was full of surprises.
A few weeks later on my birthday, he came to pick me up for a dinner date and presented me with a big oblong box. As I opened it, what to my sparkling eyes did appear? Nope, it wasn’t eight tiny reindeer — it was…
…a grill brush.
I was overcome with emotion. No, just kidding. Actually I was mystified. No one had ever given me a grill brush before, especially a date. And never as a birthday present! I didn’t quite know how to respond. I held it up, turned it over, waved it through the air a few times for effect and said, “Gee, thanks.” (Momma always taught us to be polite. No. Matter. What.)
He asked, “Do ya like it? I remember you said you planned to get
a new BBQ grill.” Darn it! I was really starting to like this guy. But visions of a vacuum cleaner on our first anniversary danced in my head.
We headed out the door and like the gentleman he is, he held out his arm to guide me down the steps, then opened the door to his truck. Right there on the floor of the passenger side was a gleaming white round propane tank.
“Oh gosh, let me get that out of your way,” he said. “I’ll just move it to the back with the REST of your birthday present.”
So, the man of my dreams got me a grill (and the brush!) because he knew my bbq grill was destroyed in the wildfire. I couldn’t believe it! We’d been dating less than a month.
Just so you know, I’m no Prima Dona. I would have been quite happy with the grill brush. (No, really) But this just blew me away.
Wait’ll you hear about the NEXT surprise!