How We Met
or
Myspace - Not Just For Stalking Your Ex Anymore
And now, gentle readers, an exercise in autofellatio.
No. Sorry. I will instead recount the story of how Zack and I first met. Haha!
CNN version:
Zack and I ran into each other at CVS about two years ago. There was an instant mutual attraction. We never exchanged numbers, however. Sometime in December, Zack found me on myspace. We arranged to meet and found that the connection was still there. And the rest is history.
Extended Self-Indulgent Narrative:
When I was 17, a junior in high school, I lived in a house just down the street from a CVS on the corner of Cypresswood and Stuebner Airline road. One evening, my mom burst into the house and said "Larkin. LARKIN! Put some make-up on NOW and come with me to the pharmacy."
"What the fuck, mom."
"Seriously. Make yourself pretty and come with me to CVS. There's a Pharmacist there that you HAVE to see. Trust me."
I thought she was insane, but I did as she said, anyway. What did I have to lose?
When we got there, she told me to go to the Pharmacy counter and pick up our family's prescriptions. Grudgingly, I made my way to the back of the store. I got in line. I waited. This is stupid, I thought. Who am I supposed to be looking for?
Suddenly, my eyes fell upon a face that stopped my heart dead in its tracks. I caught a glimpse of enormous dark eyes set above lofty cheekbones. Dark hair. He turned and disappeared into the shelves behind the counter. Without taking my eyes from the point of his disappearance, I moved sideways, craning my neck in hopes of a second look.
I knocked over a candy display. Now everyone in the store was looking at ME.
Appalled, I set the cardboard fixture and its cellophane-wrapped contents to rights as quickly as I could, keeping one eye on the counter all the while. As soon as I finished, the man returned. And all I could do was stare.
After what seemed like an age, I reached the front of the line. I spoke to the man. I smiled. He smiled back. I read his nametag. Zack. He gave me the pills and bottles. I thanked him all too kindly. As I left, I swallowed my heart.
He was there the next week. And this time, I was the only patron at the Pharmacy. I introduced myself, and we talked for some minutes about little in particular. It was all I could do to keep from fainting. He smiled and smiled. I began to hope . . . hope against hope . . . that maybe . . .
Before I left, I mustered the nerve to ask him out for a cup of coffee when he got off work. His face fell.
"I have a girlfriend."
The universe collapsed. I felt like such an idiot. So I took off like a shot. How could I have ever thought I'd get a guy like that? He's smart. He's a club promoter. He's handsome. He's charismatic. Of course he has a girl. Stupid stupid stupid Larkin.
I didn't come back for three weeks. But even though I stayed away, I couldn't get him out of my head. I needed resolution. The games weren't over. So I decided to play hardball.
I took my favorite book of short stories - a dog-eared copy of "Welcome to the Monkey House" by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. - and began to underline significant passages. I made footnotes. I wrote in the margins. I am, to this day, not entirely sure what I was trying to do. Compose a secret message, perhaps. At any rate, I wrote my email and name under the front cover and went to the Pharmacy to give it to him.
But he wasn't there.
And the next week. Nothing. No dice. I asked the Pharmacist on duty what had happened to Zack. She said he'd been relocated.
And that was that. Biting my lip, I left the CVS, flinging "Welcome to the Monkey House" into a public garbage pail as I passed.
I got over it. But I didn't forget him. Anywhere I went, I kept an eye out. Even when I moved to Saint Louis, part of me hoped that I'd find him again in a busy supermarket, leaning against the wall of a local club, or walking down the Delmar Loop with a pack of hipsters.
Years later, at college, I received a myspace message from a stranger. He was apologetic - afraid that I would consider him a stalker - but did I perhaps remember a certain Pharmacy tech from the CVS on Cypresswood and Stuebner?
I did.
He had remembered my name after all that time and, once he realized that one can search for people on myspace, entered it into the field. Lo. There I was. He had been looking for me, too. The search was over.
We arranged to meet on Christmas night. Together, we went to Havok and had a splendid time. I found him intelligent and charismatic. We became fast friends.
And, well, so as not to repeat myself, the rest is history.
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