Goin' to the Chapel

When I was 20 I landed my first “real” job filing, collating invoices and general administrative what-not for a small video game distributor. The headquarters were housed in the basement of a quaint toy store called Duane’s Toyland in a shopping center in Albany NY. The job was fine, the pay was fine, the hours were fine and my boss was, well I suppose he was fine too. 

The only thing not fine about this set up was after a short time working there I realized that one of the stock boys from Duane’s was “sweet on me”.  I knew this because every time I wandered into the break room or the stock room, he magically appeared. At first it was small talk, he loved chatting about The Mets (obviously he was barking up the wrong tree) or some comic book convention he had just attended or “boy this is some weather we’re having”.  He was pretty smooth. I was polite but always brief in my interaction with him. Mark was his name, and he looked and acted like the prototype for Napoleon Dynamite.

And while he was a nice enough fellow I wasn’t interested, yet he pressed on. It became a cat and mouse game and every time I left my office chair, there he was, lurking in the hallway waiting for me. I gave up coffee so I could minimize bathroom breaks, but he found me anyway. I started packing my lunch so I wouldn’t run into him at the sandwich shop next door, but he found me anyway. And there was one place I couldn’t avoid him, the common stock room where each week I had to go and pull orders for customers who sold cassette tapes wholesale at swap meets in Boca Raton. 

And that’s where it happened. I snuck in early one morning to try and handle the task before the toy store opened.  I worked efficiently stuffing Michael Bolton and Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam cassettes into padded envelopes and dropped them into the mail slot just as quickly as I possibly could. Gathering up my paperwork I thought phew I made it but as I turned to leave, there was Mark, with flowers ready to pounce. 

He wasted no time “so uh would you like to have dinner and see a movie with me tomorrow night” awkwardly thrusting the carnations into my hands.

Busted! Being a terrible liar and not having any actual plans I wildly searched my brain for any reason why I couldn’t take him up on his offer. I didn’t want to go, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings and most of all I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of any wrath from the giant red-head Store Manager Terry who I was certain was behind this entire business. 

Shit, I had nothing, “uh sure, should I meet you some place?”

“Well I’m still working on getting wheels of my own so I was thinking my Uncle could drive us.”

(Silently) Oh good Christ can Kip and LaFawnduh come too while we watch and see if your Uncle Rico can throw this here football over those mountains.

“I’ve got a car, I’ll pick you up, what’s your address?”

“Cool! My mom’s house is at 672 East Fountain. How about you pick me up at 6:30?”

(Silently) Of course you live with your mom, why don’t we just skip the date, head straight to city hall and get hitched!

“630 it is.”