I met Joe through a former friend one night when we went out for drinks after work. They met, and the two of them started smooching, I got grossed out and thought he was a big.... can't say the word here as my mod status will be revoked, I'd be taken out side and covered in tar and feathers and the other mods will point and laugh. Anyway, I digress.
Met him a second time when I went out with the same friend and the same thing happened. Sidenote: They never did anything more than smooching. Still thought he was the word I cannot speaketh.
Became kinda sorta bar friends over the next year. Went from a simple, "hello" to vapid conversation, i.e. "man this place is crowded, so what do you do for work?", to an actual friendship. One evening we were talking about books, we both were HUGE readers. I admitted that I had never read any gay fiction and that it didn't really interest me too much. I was (still am) much more a horror/mystery/thrilled fan than anything else.
At the time, Joe was in publishing and gathered together a ton of books that he thought might change my mind. He packaged them up and sent them to my office, each book with little Post Its attached with his thoughts and opinions included. I thought it was such a nice gesture that I called and asked him out for a beer or two as a thank you. I still wasn't interested in him though. Just wanted to foster a stronger friendship because it was clear he was such a nice, thoughtful guy.
We met that evening, one drink led to two, then to three, then to dinner. JUST dinner, nothing more. We really enjoyed each other's company and went on a few dates thereafter. Drove him crazy because I wasn't sure how I felt about him and didn't want to ruin a possible great friendship in the process if things didn't work out. Plus, I had gotten out of a relationship the year previous and I guess I want to "sow my oats" and not get tied down. As a result, he never got so much as a peck on the cheek out of me. It was true courting the old fashioned way, with movies, dinners, lunch, drinks. Nothing more than that.
A few dates later, I woke up sick as a dog, shivering with the flu, felt awful. My roommate at the time was incredibly self involved and didn't so much as lift a finger to help out in any way. Then again, admittedly I'm the type that needs to be left alone when I'm sick so it was somewhat a mutual agreement. Nevertheless, I was sick, had a high fever, sweats, the works. Spoke with Joe on the phone and I fell asleep shortly thereafter.
There was a knock on the apartment door and there was Joe, arms full of chicken soup, orange juice, flu medicine, the works. He looked like everyone's Mother, ready to attack. I was so sick that I could barely function, just muttered thanks and walked back into the bedroom. He stayed for a few hours, made sure I had everything I needed then left me alone for the evening.
Sounds impressive, right? What's more impressive was that he had come to Queens from Manhattan, had to figure out where I lived to do so, then hopped back on the subway late that night back into Manhattan, only to hop on a bus to get back to his own apartment in New Jersey.
I realized what a great guy I had on my hands soon afterwards. After nine dates (if you ask Joe, it was "NINE dates") we smooched and I knew I met the perfect man. 16+ years later, we're still going strong and we're the absolute best of friends, make each other laugh like stoned hyenas, watch out for each other and support one another.
I think he's a keeper.
I consider myself very lucky to have this wonderful woman in my life.
