"I fed him already so he's good until one-thirty. Love you, bye."
With that my lovely wife made for the door leaving me staring at the bathroom mirror. I was a bit detached. As my mind wandered I tried to shake off the groggy feeling heavy in my head. I began to study my face. Five o'clock shadow, a few wild hairs jutting out of my eyebrows and ears, topped off with a bad case of morning breath.
I rubbed my jaw running my hand up the left side of my worn face. I can't believe I'm almost forty. But more than that I can't believe I'm married, and have a son cooing in the next room. At this age I expected to be single and a woodsman of sorts.
The great outdoors had called for me back in 06' and it was my plan to heed it's call and move from Long Island to the great state of Maine. I would work security in Portland and then take the Federal Park Ranger test when it was released again. The rent was cheap, the people friendly, and the environment fit me like a glove.
But as fate usually does it took my life in a completely different direction. At the time I was single and had decided to cut Long Island women out of my life permanently. On a whim, a 'what the hell' decision I was setup on a blind date with a woman name Stacey. As described by my best friends wife she was a beauty, intelligent, six years younger than me, and personality wise - strong.
I thought, 'Great, no pressure there. You just set me up with a beauty queen.'
The night of our first date was a couples night out at the Old Speonk Inn, a local restaurant/bar that a mutual friend owned. To my unfortunate realization our couples night was taking place in the bar and not the restaurant where I had hoped. I was not happy with the setup at all. The one thing I cannot stand is bars. So there I sat on a bar stool (with a puss on my face) on the far end of the room waiting for my date to walk through the door.
'There she is Scott.', my friends wife announced with a bit of playfulness added in.
I had already seen her enter. Turquoise blue top and black pants. Dark brown hair tumbling playfully over her exotic olive skin. Her beautiful brown eyes smiled as she walked up to me - the moron with a puss on his face.
She extended her hand, "Hi, I'm Stacey. Sorry I'm late."
"I'm Scott. Nice to meet you."
And so it went through the night over the yelling of a rowdy bar scene that we awkwardly got to know one another. As the music got louder we huddled closer until it was too deafening to hear each other. On that note she finished her glass of Merlot and I, my beer. We exchanged numbers and being the old fashioned type walked her to her car. I left with a idiotic handshake goodbye and expected that my calls to her would go unanswered.
My nerve to make a second date got the better of me until I got a written kick in the ass from my friends wife. It's fair to say at that moment in my life after so many failed attempts at love that my confidence was literally shot to Hell. Maybe not the best time to second guess myself considering all the signs that she liked me were there.
We e-mailed each other and talked on the phone daily. When the night of our second date came I did it my way and took her to a nice upscale restaurant called the Cooperage Inn - minus the loud music, booze, and sardine packed room.
From that night on we couldn't keep our eyes off one another. Being a romantic I sent her cards, flowers, the usually gestures. We set up our first trip together to Gettysburg, staying at the haunted Farnsworth Inn. As days passed into weeks, weeks into months I was positive early on that Stacey was the one. Because of her my life changed for the better. Who needed Maine?
On March 23, 2007 we were married at the Graceland Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas where such celebrities as Bon Jovi, and Richard Simmons got hitched. But that my friends is another story...
