Origin Story
A girl meets a boy and tells him she likes his hat.
We met a few weeks into college at UCF. We worked crew backstage on a play—In The Well of the House. We had a guest actor who had played King Cartoon on Pee-Wee’s Playhouse. This delighted me.
We only had one job—to crank out the thrust stage for King Cartoon’s big speech. It was a small platform with a hand crank that appeared for a one crucial scene. We had to wear all black. He wore a black knit beret pushed all the way back on his head—hair shaved underneath, long on top. It was 1996. I told him I liked his hat.
We talked for hours in hushed tones backstage while the play went on. We cranked the crank at the proper cue. We continued to talk at Denny’s after the play.
He told me men and women couldn’t be friends because one would always have stronger feelings than the other. (I know this is the plot of When Harry Met Sally, but it is true). I pretended I didn’t understand what he meant. It went on like this for a year.
He told me he did not want to be my friend anymore. I told him I would date him but not to get too used to me. I would never stay in Orlando and I would never ask him to leave it.
On our first date, we went to a restaurant called the Fourth Fighter Group Club. It had big, vintage WWII aircraft out front. At 18 and 21, we were the youngest patrons there by at least 30 years. Later, we went to a playground at night. It was September 8, 1997. We carved our initials into a wooden post at the top of the slide.
When my best friend and roommate moved away, I moved in with him. I told him I was sad she had left and a kitten would make me feel better. He told me we could get a kitten. We a got a little orange tabby and named him Holden. I said I was applying to grad school anywhere but Orlando. I told him I’d never ask him to leave his friends and family and come with me.
We took a roadtrip. He sat me on a bench underneath a street light in Asheville. He said if I would have him, he’d follow me anywhere. I said, how about New York City?
We loaded up a Ryder truck and our cat. We drove for two days. I read aloud Neil Gaiman’s American Gods and held Holden in my lap. He drove the whole way.
We landed at 296 Nassau Ave, Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It was August 10, 2001. Our adventure was just getting started.
