The Most Unlikely Couple ~ Pt. III ~ She said yes, then we said no

If you're just joining us, here's Part I and Part II.

"I'm crazy about you and I want to be your boyfriend." I've never thought about getting a tattoo with those words, but it doesn't sound half-baked, entirely, now that I'm thinking about getting Tattoo No. 3. The existing two are ill-conceived Hanson Brothers tattoos. Bygones.

I hate ending on cliffhangers. You sort of have to wonder, especially if you're female, what did Amy say when I offered up that line? Nothing, really. Nothing I remember. She smiled. I smiled. We talked more and, after an hour in her apartment at 2020, we said our goodbyes. No kissing. Still. She smiled a lot but agreed to nothing. As far as I knew. I retreated to my shared/rented home in Duluth with one Kelly Rajesky.

Over the ensuing hour, Amy hit the phone lines. She called her Mom. She called her best friend, Kate. Eventually, she called Joe, the guy she was supposed to be attending wedding festivities with over the ensuing weekend. He was at work when she called, late Friday morning. "Don't come to Duluth," she told him. "Is everything OK?" he asked. "Yeah, just don't."

Meanwhile, I believe I had a beer and enjoyed a James Bond movie involving embedded diamonds in one's face. Romantic, I know. Without warning — text messaging was a thing of the future in Duluth in 2002 — I saw Amy walking around our rickety white fence and up the sidewalk. She rang the doorbell. She wanted to take me to lunch. Hacienda Del Sol, quite possibly the only non-chain Mexican restaurant in a metro area of over 100,000 at the time. I hastily accepted the offer.

She drove her Grand Prix down the hilly streets of Duluth. "So," she said, not taking her eyes off the road, "All of a sudden, Joe's not coming up to go to the wedding with me tonight."

"Why is that?" I lobbed playfully back at her.

"Ummm. Uh. Well, this guy ..." Her voice trailed off. I put my hand over her hand on the gear shifter. We went directly to the Hacienda. We drove a little way up the North Shore. We stood on a rock. We came back to my place. She was the personal assistant in the wedding and had myriad duties. I wouldn't be able to talk to her Saturday, I was told, so we said our goodbyes. Still, no kiss.

We have, for the record, kissed.

Saturday, Amy was entirely wrapped up in wedding details. That left me in a surreal position. Did Friday really happen? Nothing was made official. You are Such. A candyass. I went to work. I got done with work. I work late, so it was around midnight. As I was pulling into my house, I got a call from Amy. She had gotten out of her wedding duties as soon as she could. She wanted to come over.

It was August, one of the two months in Duluth with marvelous weather, so I waited in the backyard. She showed up in heels, a little black dress, and with 87 bobby pins in her hair. We went to my room and removed the pins. Somewhere around 2 a.m., we kissed. I would love to give you more detail, but I can't. Not for those reasons. It was late. I simply don't remember. She went home somewhere around 3:30 a.m. For the third time in my life, I had a girlfriend.

Up Next: Part Three.