The First Time We Kissed…
I think my impending wedding to my fiance brought up the subject. My fiance and I were at my grandparents, looking at their photographs of their wedding. My grandparents, both in their sixties, with silvery white hair, and fading memories, loved to talk to the grandchildren about their pictures. My grandfather had been quite a fellow in his day, according to my grandmother. He was in the pictures, wearing a fraternity cardigan sweater. He had supposedly dated all the girls in my grandmother’s sorority before he had discovered her. He always laughed when he told the story…she was playing the piano, and he walked into the sorority dorm with one of her classmates on his arm. They had walked over to the piano, and started singing the school’s fight song. The girl he was with supposedly didn’t like to sing, so he bid her adieu, and sat on the piano bench singing into the wee hours of the morning with my grandmother. Then, they asked us when we had first met.
My fiancée and I had sort of met by accident. I was going to school at Ohio State University, studying prelaw. I was planning on being a lawyer like my father. My father was a partner in one of the local law firms, and provided for all my needs while I was in school. I didn’t have to actually have a job until I got out of college, which was really nice. We belonged to the biggest country club, where my dad and I occasionally played a round of golf, and my mom loved türkçe bahis her bridge games. So, I had opted for Ohio State. It worked out well. My fiancée was at a small private liberal arts college North of Columbus, in one of the classier suburbs. It was known for its beautiful women, as well as its liberal arts programs. I would have attended it, but it didn’t really have the prestige of an Ivy League school or Ohio State.
I had a math class….statistics I think, in the big Psych building…where I saw her. She was flirting with a big bodybuilder type, but she looked at me curiously and sort of bounced her hair. I think it’s a universal signal…that when a girl bounces her hair, she is interested. (I learned that in intro to Psych…nonverbal language cues.) Anyhow, later that week, I was walking to class, and she sort of appeared, and asked me if I knew some girl in my stats class. I didn’t, but she didn’t seem to be too upset. Seems she was a sorority sister that she was trying to send a message to…but it wasn’t important. She had a sorority party that weekend, and she wanted me to come. I had grown up around parties, so it wasn’t a big deal. My dad used to have his lawyers over to our house, where we had booze flowing like the Ohio River. So, I agreed.
I showed up at her sorority house, where the entire block was a giant parking lot…cars were parked as far as the eyes could iddaa siteleri see. There was a big fire pit on the front lawn, and someone in a chef’s hat was attending the grill…probably one of the help. We usually didn’t talk to them. I walked into the house, and there she was with the same bodybuilder guy. So, I walked in, got a bottle of beer out of the ice bucket, and walked into the back yard, where the girls were playing Frisbee, only they were aiming at a big playgirl poster of some hunk of the month’s pinup. It was interesting. That is when I recognized the picture…the bodybuilder that was with the girl that invited me….he was actually a local, and she knew him from work. I thought she was dating him, but when she came out of the back door with her strawberry wine cooler, she started laughing.
“He’s a hunk, isn’t he? He is a guy that I work with on the weekends…I’m a nurse’s aide, and he is a nurse. I’m just friends with him.” Laughter.
“I didn’t know. That is why all the girls are jealous of you?”
“No. My dad is a FBI agent, and he doesn’t let me date anyone he hasn’t met first. He met him, and asked him to keep an eye out for me…sort of a personal body guard. I promised him all the beer he could drink, plus meeting some sorority girls is a draw. He’s too old for me. Anyhow, I’m going to transfer to Ohio State next year, and study psychology.”
“Then, your dad deneme bonusu veren siteler hasn’t met me yet…probably shouldn’t be talking to you….” I laughed.
“You would know it. He does a thorough background check on all my friends. He said he didn’t want me dating any Arabs…they might be terrorists. But, we can still talk. Want another beer?
“Sure. I guess I might want to think this over…You’re father sounds like he has some control issues.”
“Well, you can never be too careful in this day and age. You might be a serial killer or something. My dad is real good at getting rid of guys he doesn’t want me date. He said I should find a premed student that belonged to a country club.”
Well, we dated a few days, meeting mainly at the library or Wendy’s on High Street, and then, I got a phone call….someone from the registrar was calling to see if I had authorized a FBI background check. Seems her father was already checking me out. I know I hadn’t done anything wrong…at least too much. I had had a speeding ticket, but I had paid it about five years ago. So, I knew it was her father. I don’t know to this day how he got my social security number or anything. I did find out later that he had surveillance cameras on the people coming and going to the party…and he had a picture of me with his daughter on the back porch of the sorority house with a beer in my hand. Of course, we were kissing. I guess I lucked out, he never tried to get rid of me. I guess it was when he found out my dad was a partner at a local law firm, with a membership at the local country club, that he decided that I was all right. If I remember right, the kiss was one of the best I had ever experienced.
