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Authors: Devan Sipher
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trains were running. But we didn’t know that. We were just standing there waiting. And waiting. Until we finally gave up and tried to get a taxi. Except there were no taxis to get. Which is when I started freaking, because I had a nine fifteen presentation scheduled at work. So Mike ran into the middle of the street, zigzagging through the traffic and flagging down drivers until he convinced someone to give us a ride uptown. We were smushed together in the back of this Honda Fit, and as I climbed over him to get out, he asked for my number again.”
“That’s when you gave it to him.”
“No.” She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s when I called the cops. Well, actually, I called my roommate’s brother, who works as a PI and had offered to do a background check. He’sthe one who contacted the police. How was I supposed to know Mike had a dozen unpaid parking tickets?”
If incarceration was a form of foreplay, I had more to learn than I thought.
“The background check somehow triggered him getting sent a bench warrant for the tickets,” she said. “He had to appear in court and pay a fine, but the way he carries on, you’d think troopers showed up at his door and handcuffed him.”
I needed to know how these two people ended up together. Because it wasn’t inevitable. When I interviewed couples it was easy to believe that their relationships were predestined, but I knew that wasn’t true. Something happened between dodging motor vehicles and picking confetti colors, and I needed to understand what it was. More to the point, I needed to understand love. I was like a scientist studying the components of a foreign substance, and for the first time I realized that my job offered the ideal laboratory. I’d been so focused on the irony of being a single man writing about weddings that I’d overlooked the serendipity. I’d been going about my articles with blinders on, fixated on deadlines and word counts and not appreciating that each of the couples I met had something crucial to teach me. If I could just figure out what it was.
“Did Mike stop showing up in the morning?” I asked, wondering if he pulled back.
“Are you kidding?” She looked amused. “He insisted that after all the trouble I caused, the least I could do was go out with him.” Seemed logical to me.
“And I considered it,” she said.
He was asking for a measly date, not a bank rescue,
I almost shouted in frustration. What was there to think about?
“I debated the pros and cons in my head. Was I ready to start dating again? Was I not ready? Should I go on a diet first? I havea crazy brain. I ponder all the possible combinations and permutations. When we go to sleep at night, he says to me, ‘I can hear your thoughts. They’re very loud.’”
Okay, she was a little neurotic. In a Zooey Deschanel kind of way. I got it. So what won her over? That was what I wanted to know. She had skipped over that one crucial detail. “Why did you finally agree to go on a date?”
“I didn’t,” she said. “He showed up at my office at lunchtime one day with white calla lilies, a bottle of Moët, and takeout from Nobu. We had a picnic in the conference room. Who can say no to Nobu?” It all came down to expensive sushi and champagne? He must have spent two hundred dollars. I couldn’t afford that. At least not on a first date, and it wasn’t even a first date. It was a pitch for a first date.
“You didn’t at any point encourage him?” I asked, dumbfounded. It was a new concept for me, and I was having trouble fully grasping it.
“Well, I didn’t
dis
courage him,” she said. Was he supposed to comprehend the difference? Was I? “It’s not like I didn’t talk to him. Even the first day he showed up on the subway platform. We got into a stupid conversation about
Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
. I remember calling him a doofus, and he called me a movie snob. Which is completely untrue. My all-time favorite movie is
Shrek
.
“That’s when you gave it to him.”
“No.” She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s when I called the cops. Well, actually, I called my roommate’s brother, who works as a PI and had offered to do a background check. He’sthe one who contacted the police. How was I supposed to know Mike had a dozen unpaid parking tickets?”
If incarceration was a form of foreplay, I had more to learn than I thought.
“The background check somehow triggered him getting sent a bench warrant for the tickets,” she said. “He had to appear in court and pay a fine, but the way he carries on, you’d think troopers showed up at his door and handcuffed him.”
I needed to know how these two people ended up together. Because it wasn’t inevitable. When I interviewed couples it was easy to believe that their relationships were predestined, but I knew that wasn’t true. Something happened between dodging motor vehicles and picking confetti colors, and I needed to understand what it was. More to the point, I needed to understand love. I was like a scientist studying the components of a foreign substance, and for the first time I realized that my job offered the ideal laboratory. I’d been so focused on the irony of being a single man writing about weddings that I’d overlooked the serendipity. I’d been going about my articles with blinders on, fixated on deadlines and word counts and not appreciating that each of the couples I met had something crucial to teach me. If I could just figure out what it was.
“Did Mike stop showing up in the morning?” I asked, wondering if he pulled back.
“Are you kidding?” She looked amused. “He insisted that after all the trouble I caused, the least I could do was go out with him.” Seemed logical to me.
“And I considered it,” she said.
He was asking for a measly date, not a bank rescue,
I almost shouted in frustration. What was there to think about?
“I debated the pros and cons in my head. Was I ready to start dating again? Was I not ready? Should I go on a diet first? I havea crazy brain. I ponder all the possible combinations and permutations. When we go to sleep at night, he says to me, ‘I can hear your thoughts. They’re very loud.’”
Okay, she was a little neurotic. In a Zooey Deschanel kind of way. I got it. So what won her over? That was what I wanted to know. She had skipped over that one crucial detail. “Why did you finally agree to go on a date?”
“I didn’t,” she said. “He showed up at my office at lunchtime one day with white calla lilies, a bottle of Moët, and takeout from Nobu. We had a picnic in the conference room. Who can say no to Nobu?” It all came down to expensive sushi and champagne? He must have spent two hundred dollars. I couldn’t afford that. At least not on a first date, and it wasn’t even a first date. It was a pitch for a first date.
“You didn’t at any point encourage him?” I asked, dumbfounded. It was a new concept for me, and I was having trouble fully grasping it.
“Well, I didn’t
dis
courage him,” she said. Was he supposed to comprehend the difference? Was I? “It’s not like I didn’t talk to him. Even the first day he showed up on the subway platform. We got into a stupid conversation about
Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
. I remember calling him a doofus, and he called me a movie snob. Which is completely untrue. My all-time favorite movie is
Shrek
.
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