I Remember

The first time I saw you - standing behind a table full of literature in a ballroom at the Henry VIII hotel. 

The second time I saw you - walking out of the Ramada Inn in Columbia, MO a couple of weeks later. 

The formal introduction - later that night in the crowded hotel hallway.  David Witte introduced us and you offered to get me another beer.  You claim that's what won me over. 

The first time I swooned - when you asked if I knew who was playing at Riverport that summer and I responded "Cheap Trick" (expecting some kidding).  Your earnest enthusiasm for my favorite band had me hooked. 

The Boones Farm - Peach, straight from the bottle.  (Makes me a little queasy to think about it now.)

The first kiss - your crooked, tipsy smile as you leaned in. 

The embarrassingly naive attempt at seduction - "I'll show you how big a girl I am."  You still giggle about that and I still blush. 

The goodbye - when neither of us had a pen so I tore one of my checks in half to give you my phone number.  Years later, I found it was still in your wallet. 

Fifteen years ago, I was sure you wouldn't call.  

But you did.  You did.