The story starts with me finding out about a volunteering opportunity at an elementary school in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. I used to teach, and really enjoyed it most of the time, so I accepted.
As time went on, I mistook the date of said volunteering opportunity, only to realize on the morning of... and showed up very very late. I entered the room feeling sheepish, only to take in a scene where the volunteer coordinator, Tanya Kateri, had efficiently organized a phalanx of film and television professionals in perfect accord with a gaggle of elementary school students. It was utterly remarkable, and I realized that my absence had hardly been noticed. Nevertheless, I can be shy in certain group settings and so I relegated myself to the role of impressed observer.
One of the people I observed was a tall young lady with stylish glasses that I would later find out have no prescriptive value and are worn only for style. Yes, I just blew up your spot. Anyway, when I looked at this young lady, I thought: she is imperviously beautiful. So beautiful and stylish-- look at those glasses after all-- that I would not be well served by continuing to look at her because, frankly, she is out of my league. She must consort with a limitlessly hip cohort of creative types that represent Americas best and bright future. This turns out to be true.
I remember thinking that I didn't even want her to look at me. That I wouldn't be able to return her gaze. I had rolled fresh out of bed to get here, and was not looking my best. But we did exchange a look. I think she was wearing a smartly cut trench coat. Her eyes had a deep encompassing aura about them. I looked to the ground almost immediately and made my way to Tanya to make amiable small talk. That's enough of that. She's so tall! So fashionable! So witty! I thought, as I observed her from afar. No matter. She must have a boyfriend. I bet that I don't have a chance.
What a delusion this turned out to be. Later Tanya told me that Gillian asked about me in an email. I could not believe it. Perhaps she was mistaking me for someone else. Nope. It was me. My ego has rarely been so rewarded. I ask Tanya about the next volunteer session, and file it away as imperative to attend. Also, the kids.
Shortly thereafter, I made a trip to visit my parents on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. Not too far from where this girl and I will soon get married. Where you will be as a dearly valued guest. Think of the improbability of that statement, given what you've read thus far. That girl, the tall brunette with the glasses, the red lipstick- I didn't mention that the first time, but, yes, red lipstick- the smartly cut trench coat- that one is the one I'm going to marry soon. I must have done amazing things in a past life. Like give up my spot on a foot locker bobbing in the icy North Atlantic as orphan twins climb on top and the nearby Lusitania is swept beneath the swells. That kind of thing.
Anyway. I get to Virginia friday night only to realize the next volunteer date is tomorrow. I now use iCal but not then. There was only one option: explain to my parents that I had to go back to New York for the morning, wake up at 3am and hit the road for the 6 hour trip back to the school. For the kids.
So I make the drive and arrive at the school, glowing with altruism. Strangely, the class was not meeting in the normal spot-- the library. In fact, they were not meeting at all. I had somehow missed the information that the class had been cancelled, and I made the 6 hour trip for nothing. Back to Virginia. Mission very much not accomplished.
Are you discouraged reading this? I was not discourage living it. The returned to the school the following week, which was the final volunteer session. The tall brunette and I were assigned to the same student pair. Nice work, Tanya! Our interaction was effortless. It was thrilling. Is she too good to be true?
A goodbye brunch followed, and that's when the tall brunette made a joke that turned my head forever. We were talking about the education systems of other countries, namely Germany. The tall brunette affected a German accent and proclaimed: I've discovered the God particle!
Later I recounted that story to my friend and confidant John Mitchell. When things are important I run them through him. This boded well.
We met at a bar for a drink, under the pretense of her welcoming me to the neighborhood (I had just moved to Ft. Greene from an infernal spider hole in Williamsburg). She was wearing one of her trademark "event necklaces". I quickly realized this was not the kind of date that should be spent in a bar. We changed venues.... to a delightful spot named Roman's... and had the first of what would be become a limitless array of delectable meals together. That's what we do.
Now, before we conclude, there's one last thing I should say. I had a tradition of gonzo golfing with Mike O'Brien, Tim Parrot, and best man Scott Diperna on Saturday mornings. I decided to invite Gillian. She attended, and we rode in a cart together. After one of the many times she outdrove me, we floated down the cart path together, her head on my shoulder, and I thought: this is as good as it gets.
Please see the picture below, taken that day, which appears on my phone every time she calls me. I am elated to remark that we are just getting started. Thank you for joining us as we begin this new life together.
Fore!