The Year: 2006
Best. Year. Ever. I took a Vegas vacation with my girlfriends, I went to a bunch of incredible concerts, I was making great money waitressing, and best of all, I had established a fabulous group of friends. Perfection. Well, my version of it anyway. I was riding high, enjoying the hell out of being single. Besides, I didn't really have a clear example of what kind of man I was attracted to. Until I saw him.
I'm working at this sports themed restaurant where I had met said fabulous group of friends. I was in my element. You should know that I always wanted to be an entertainer, therefore, I was usually pretty loud and obnoxious. But not obnoxious in a bad way (at least I hope not). I just loved to laugh and tell jokes and make fun of the line cooks. It got me through the long nights of slinging chicken tenders and tall Buds to drunk Giants fans. One night, while I was expo-ing (restaurant term that means arranging each table's order and garnishing plates before they reach the guests. You're welcome), I noticed a new guy behind the line. I remember the second he looked up at me with warm, blue eyes that smiled even when he wasn't, and I think I melted.
He had a gorgeous face. First of all, I was shocked that a good looking guy was frying chicken tenders. Secondly, I knew that there was no way in hell he dug chubby brunettes. (Sidebar: I had always been unlucky whenever I was attracted to someone first, usually that someone wasn't attracted to me, so we would enter the "friend zone". You can put your violin away now.) So despite the fact that dreamy line cook was working just inches away from me, I put him out of my head and did my job, yelling at servers to run their food and yelling at line cooks for taking 25 minutes to make an order of french fries.
Come to find out, Dreamy Line Cook already had a girlfriend. I discovered this by asking my super stealth friend, Jeannine, to find out if he was taken or not, which she did by asking him straight out. After working with him for a few weeks, I came to notice his very sexy sculpted arms, and his even sexier tattoos. His station on the line was very conveniently located on the way to the walk-in cooler, from which I retrieved many imaginary lemons and tomatoes. I have this very clear memory of him looking up at me as I walked by one day, and smiling at me so brightly that his entire face lit up that ugly, drab kitchen. Me, being ever so cool, totally blushed and walked away quickly, practically dropping the imaginary lettuce.
We never really spoke or had a conversation, but I was always checking him out. I categorized him as "unattainable" and never pursued anything. Then, one week went by and I noticed he hadn't been around. Another week passed, no more eye candy. Had I been trapped in an 80's music video for a month? No one really had an explanation as to where he was. I decided that I was dangerously close to being called a stalker, and I dropped it. I eventually forgot about him, and carried on.
The Year: 2007
So in a nutshell, this year sucked. I had lost two friends, whom I considered very close, due to an absolutely ridiculous roommate situation (I would rather work three jobs than ever have roommates again). My daughter had decided that her goal in life, at age 3, was to destroy everything I spent my hard earned money on. I was working two jobs: Bartending at a karaoke bar twice a week, and waitressing at the sports restaurant three days a week. I was always busy, yet always broke and establishing guilt for having to pick my daughter up from a baby-sitter at midnight or later most of the time.
I moved into a new apartment right after Thanksgiving. This time, I was living with the only roommate I wanted, my daughter, even though I knew she was going to keep breaking my shit. I knew that things were going to be difficult financially, but I tried to escape those feelings by an occasional night out with my peeps (not be confused with colorful marshmallows in the shape of baby animals).
So one particular night, my friends and I went to dinner at a new restaurant owned by the same company of the restaurant that I worked at (got it?). Remember my friend Jeannine? She had been working at the new restaurant, assisting in training the new staff. One night, my fab friends and I met up with Jeannine at the new place for dinner. After a delicious meal, Jeannine disappears. Then, literally out of no where, Dreamy Line Cook appears.
"Hi, I'm Joshua!" he said with that 1000 watt smile that grabbed my attention the first time I saw him. I think I told him my name or something of that nature because I was so stunned I really had no idea what I was saying. Then he just started talking, telling me about how he had broken his neck a few month before, and how he was lucky to be alive, and I just simply couldn't process what he was telling me because I was too busy being shocked. Finally he said, "Let me give you my number!" I nervously fumbled with my phone and made sure that I saved it. Since he was in the middle of preparing numerous dinners in the kitchen, he had to leave me but said he hoped to hear from me. After he left, I looked at my smiling friends at the table. "What the hell just happened?" I said.
Later on, Jeannine and I went out bar hopping but I couldn't stop thinking about Josh. Then I realized, I had his number, but he didn't have mine. I asked Jeannine how long I should wait before I call him so I don't appear desperate and her advice was to wait until tomorrow. So naturally, I ignored her advice and texted him that night. No worries, I kept it cool. I wrote, "Hi Josh! It's Jen. It was so great to see you! I hope to talk to you soon!" Simple. To the point and honest. When my phone alerted me that I received a new text, my heart was in my throat. He wrote back, asking me if he could call me when he got out of work. I agreed and about three hours later, we were on the phone.
And we remained on the phone until the sun came up.
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