How We Met - Part 3: A Strategy Tested

Drawingbench

A Drawing Bench

The Art and Design School was a sprawling maze of studio rooms and long corridors filled with sculptures, paintings, design projects, and the strong smell of kneadable eraser.  Finding my Drawing I class took some effort but I eventually rounded the corner and walked into the room.  It was full of benches, drawing benches I later learned, that were scattered around the room in no particular order.  The other students were sitting or standing and facing a short man with long white hair, combed straight back.  He was wearing biker boots, blue jeans, a blue shirt and a leather vest.  “This guy is either our instructor” I thought, “or he’s going to flip us the bird and take off on a road trip.”  He waited a bit, welcomed us to class and then started telling us what supplies we would need and where to get them.  “Ah, he’s the instructor.”

After five minutes of listening and wondering how I was going to afford all this equipment the room brightened and she walked in, sunshine in a six foot tall body.   She was dressed in a red and white checkered shirt with a white turtle neck underneath, blue jeans and brown ankle boots.  Her hair was blond, very blond, platinum blond, and the lines of white mixed with yellow ran straight to the middle of her back with bangs that were cut short and curled under right at the brow.  She had fair skin and and lots of freckles.  The freckles were light, almost sepia in color and they looked as if someone had taken a fine bristled brush and flicked pale brown paint across the bridge of her nose.  Her blond eyebrows were a sketchy yellow and sat above two calm blue eyes that stood out on that canvas of beautiful shapes.  She was a picture and she was stunning.

She walked from the door and made her way to an empty bench about ten feet from mine.  Her walk was high and straight and it made her seem taller than her height.  She had a presence and I’m confident I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

She got to the drawing bench and straddled it and all I could think was “Meeeooooww…”  If there was any doubt about that girl in the two and a half seconds it took her to walk across the room, they were gone now.  Everyone else faded into the background and I focused on her.  When I say focused, I don’t mean in the creepy stare way.  I know that scoping a girl is a work of art.  You want them to know that you’re checking them out without boring holes into the sides of their heads.  I was a master at scoping.  I would play the game for a bit and when I was about to get caught, I would shift my gaze about five degrees and pretend that that particularly green blade of grass, or distant building, or park bench was fascinating.  With this one, I was a little out of my element and so I think I would have been dead if she would have turned to look.  She didn’t.

Our instructor finished his semester preamble and she got up, turned toward the door and walked out without a glance in my direction.  I resolved to get to know her better.  And that was not going to be easy.

Let me give you a physical description of me at the time:  6′-5″ and 165lbs.  Skinny.  Long red, curly hair on the top of my head and short red hair on the sides (it was the age of Psychedelic Furs).  Pale skin and dark brown freckles in a lot of places.  I buttoned all of my shirts up to the collar and tightly rolled the cuffs of my jeans.  I also wore Chuck Taylor high tops.  They were ripped at the soles and I used duct tape to hold them together.  I was a piece of work…or a piece of something.  In other words, I didn’t have a lot going for me in the “hey hot chick, want to talk to me?” department.  However, I do have wits and I planned my “approach” carefully.

My plan was to come to our next class a couple of minutes after class started and sit next to her.  But not too late lest all of the chairs next to her be occupied by other potential suitors.  I could then strike up a conversation with her, show her that I was completely charming and sweep her off her feet.

But, what I didn’t count on were two things:  I was on time and she was late.  I got there right when class started, looked around the room, saw two or three people getting their boards set up and picked a bench with open benches on both sides.  People filed in, took up the empty seats (including the ones next to me) and she straggled in ten minutes later and sat on the other side of the room.  My plan was failing right out of the gate.  The only up-side was that we all sat in a circle with the focus of our drawing in the middle, so I had plenty of opportunity to observe.  The downside was that another guy was sitting next to her and they were having a lively, fun conversation.  Dang it.

Drawing I was a three hour class.  We would draw for an hour, take a ten minute break, draw for another hour, ten minute break and then draw until class was done.  During the drawing times, there was a lot of time to ponder a new strategy.  At the breaks, most of the class would file out and smoke in the stairwell, the lobby, and outside the main entry.  A lot of artsy people smoke.  She, however, did not smoke and after getting a snack from the concession stand, she would end up back in our room to wait out the remainder of the break and sit and talk with “Baron Lively Von Conversation.”  I figured that I still needed an “in” and by the time class four rolled around, I had made the necessary hops and moves and found myself sitting next to her.  So it was me, her, and him.  He had a two class head start on me and currently had her undivided attention.

I was going to have to find a way to break into the conversation.

[to be continued]

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26 comments to How We Met – Part 3: A Strategy Tested

  • Awww…..

    April, you need to give your husband something nice for all that sweet talk. Bake him a pie….or something.

  • Brenda

    How sweeeeet!

  • I guess how sweet….Wow….

  • Theresa in Alberta

    OH! How sweet!! But in a very manly way :-)
    Please, keep going!!

  • I met my husband in high school. He was too wild for me, but I think that was the attraction. 31 years later, we have 4 grandchildren!

  • Barb

    Oh, I’m loving this! I’ll have to ask my husband if he looked at me that way. Hmmmm….

  • Jen

    You’re killing me.

  • Aw, love at first sight. Do you know Danny doesn’t remember the first time we met? It’s true. Of course it was a very brief and inconsequential meeting and an ex-girlfriend introduced us. But still. So, where is this picture, and do we get to hear April’s side of the story when you’re all done?

  • Clay! Write faster!

  • Very nice – very very nice, in fact ! What a lucky girl you are, April – to have a husband who can express his feelings so clearly ! I have a jewel of a husband whom I love with all my heart, but he has trouble getting the words out sometimes…. =)

  • I am insanely jealous of this! I must make the Fiance write something for me. Alas, he’s Mr. Sarcasm.

    Is your daughter making ralphing noises? I can only imagine being a teenager and hearing my Dad “meow” about my Mom…I’d insta-hurl. LOL

  • Ellen

    meow?! What’s all this?! DAD!

  • Tiffany

    Clay, this is great!

  • What an awesome memory of how stunning your future bride was!

  • Amy

    All men should be this sweet! But these mini installments are killing me Clay!

  • Baron Lively Von Conversation hahahahaheehehe Too funny!! :)

  • I adore the description of your bride-to-be but…I feel like you left us hangin’ once again! Dang it! : ) Do go on!!

  • Sherri

    I concur. Write faster, Clay.

    (Poor Ellen. Scarred, aren’t you? Eventually you will remember this with fondness and not complete horror. You’ll be proud of their lunacy. I promise.)

  • Paula

    Well good gravy, Clay writes as well as April! I’m so entertained by both of you. I’ve read your stuff outloud to several captive family members, who also laugh and enjoy. My nephew said, “What’s the name of that blog because I’m gonna check it out.” He particularly liked the video of Clay taking the bees back to the hive and all the dancing. Me, too. Our whole family had the misfortune to sit around an ICU waiting room at a hospital for more than a week, so everyone at least was entertained by the videos and my reading the blogs aloud. Sploinking chickens brought the house down. We all know about hen blowouts here in West Texas. My 91 year old granny said they always plucked the chickens because they liked the skin on, but that plenty of people skinned them when they had lots to do at once. I’d never heard of skinning a chicken!

    Clay, keep ’em coming! Can’t wait to hear how you won her heart.

  • I’m still enjoying this. Clay, you’re the man. I’ve never been one to compete for a woman. I probably would have just let the “Baron” have here, and we all know that’s no way to live life.

  • susan

    i just love this!!!! can’t wait..the suspense is too much.

  • “Baron Lively Von Conversation.”
    Great description. I can’t wait for more.
    Charity

  • Julie

    *swoon* I’m lovin the description of April. I always ask my man, “When was the first time you noticed me?” He can never remember. I’m sending him your post. I’m serious, I’m telling him to make something up. For the children’s sake!

  • Clay and my Electric Horseman would get along just fine – both romantics … check out, for instance, the latest poem my guy wrote:

    http://thebutterflymind.com/thecowboyspoetry.htm

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    online you should try too, just search in google – slabs roulette system

  • Hello, you post interesting posts on your page, you deserve much more visits,
    just type in google for – augo’s tube traffic

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