Yep, 13 years ago today, I went on a date to the Chicago Auto Show.
Three days earlier, I had locked myself out of my apartment, having left my keys at Great Big Ad Agency's fitness center. I got home in the evening, needing a shower and dinner. No keys. Anywhere. The building super was not home. Neither was my next door neighor, Mimi.
Oh no, please don't make me go to the cute guy down the hall. I would die of embarrassment.
Ian, the cross-dressing South African across the hall, was not home. Three other neighbors who I knew were not home. Keep in mind that this was before the omnipresence of cell phones. It was 1995! And NOBODY I knew was home.
Oh no, I have to go try the cute guy down the hall.
Our apartment numbers had been removed from our doors in order to paint them. I stood in front of two doors in a strange variation of Let's Make a Deal. Which door? Which door? He said 507 when we chatted a few months ago (yes, i remembered...). Did I count correctly? Is this 507? Or this one?
Then I heard his voice on a phone call. So I knocked. He told me later that he thought a present from heaven had been dropped at his doorstep.
I tell him that if I'd knocked on the other door, I'd be married to Michael Hudson now.
He babysat me, hydrated me with glass after glass of water and chatted me up. Once the super returned, he said, "shall we continue this?" I said, "great, see you in 20 minutes, I need to shower, I'll take you for a bite to eat to say thanks." He told me later that he meant AT ANOTHER TIME. Geez, Val, smooth. Really smooth.
The next morning, there was a note under my door inviting me to the Auto Show. It's a good first date place. Crowded. Easily accessible by public transit in case you have to bail out. And if things are not going well, you can "have other plans" that you have to get to. And if they are going well, you keep hanging out.
12 hours later, I finally went home. I had little interest in marriage and none in motherhood. Who knew what had started??????