Monday, December 17, 2007

In the City

Last night I got to spend some time with the men in my life.

With me working extra hours and Big assembling tacos in his spare time, it’s a rarity the four of us are together to go somewhere.

This is where we went.

In know. I know. A theme park?


An 1880’s Ozarks mining town. Complete with thrill rides and overpriced, fatty-albeit fantastic-food. …and it’s Christmas time, when The City is at its best.


Of course.

That’s part of its ample charm and I will love this park till the day I die. It’s one of my favorite places in life. It’s special for a couple of reasons:

It was my first job. It combined my love of the theatrical with my need for gas money. It was theatrical because I got to play dress up everyday and get paid for it. It was and still is about 30 miles from home and it became my little corner of the world. It was a place where no one knew me and didn’t find me awkward or weird. I met interesting people and enjoyed my work. I fell in like a couple of times and in love once. Two summers belonged to The City and I treasure the time I spent there.

I met Big Daddy.

I was working the popcorn wagon one day and there he was-sweeping the streets. I got that curl in my belly. You know-the one you get when you see someone special. …and there was indeed something sexy-special about the dark-haired, bearded young man walking my way. He stopped to sweep up the popcorn that had fallen under the wagon. We started a conversation and he went about his way.

The next day I saw him again. But alas, there was no popcorn under my wagon to be swept away. So I put some there. Not much, just a couple of handfuls thrown out the window when no one was looking. Of course he was obligated to come clean it away.

Every day after, there would be popcorn under my wagon. I would complain loudly about how messy people were and apologize profusely that he had to stop and sweep everyday.

He said it was no great hardship.

So I chased him until he caught me.

The boys roll their eyes when I drag this little jewel out for others to hear. But most people don’t mind hearing how BD cleaned the popcorn out from under my wagon.

I’ve got a story about bar-b-que sauce, too. ...but that one I’m not tellin’.


Bou said...

When people ask me how my husband and I met, I tell them, 'We met in a bar'. Its funny because neither of us drink. In reality, it was a happy hour for the company I worked for and his brother, who worked for the same company, dragged him along.

I love hearing how people met. Sweeping popcorn... that made me laugh! I love it.

Jim - PRS said...

"So I chased him until he caught me."

I believe this is hard-wired into female DNA.

Sugar Britches said...

bou and jim-I like those stories, too. I think how much we women enjoy them is also hard-wired.