5,479 Days, But Who's Counting?

A little over 15 years ago, I rang Husband at his dorm room. I told him that I had something that I wanted to ask him. Before I got to my question, we spoke for two hours.* Then I said that I hoped to see a film over the weekend, and was wondering if he would like to join me. He said yes.

So, on Feb. 23, 1995, I met Husband in the lobby of his dorm and we walked to the East Village Cinemas to see "Pulp Fiction." I wore a pair of rainbow striped stockings, a turquoise skirt, and a black tunic-y thing with orange embroidery at the neck and sleeves. And blue Doc Martens. I was nervous that Husband didn't know that I meant to ask him out on a date, but when he paid for the tickets, I thought he knew.

After the movie, we went to a cafe and drank the worst hot chocolate I've ever had foisted upon me. It was like the staff dropped a Hals into it and let it dissolve. We laughed about how nasty it was. When we left, I forgot my ear muffs. Husband asked if I wanted to go back and look for them, but I said, "No, they are diarrhea brown. I'll just get a new pair." He thought this was hilarious.

He walked me back to my dorm, and we stood in a light drizzle for another two hours, talking. When we finally parted around 4 am, he hugged me good night. I've been on cloud nine ever since.

*And how my roommates, who were trying to sleep in our one room dorm cell, did not punch me in the face (as I deserved) is beyond me. I sat right next to one of my roommate's beds as I obliviously chatted away.