Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Somebody Already Got My Number

In the rush of the morning I left my engagement ring in a dish by the sink, it's hard to slip it back on when my hands are covered in spf 50. And maybe if I hadn't been late to work I would have gone back and put it on and stopped a young man from ultimate humiliation.

As it was I didn't and he was. For work I take one of my client's to cash a check about every other week. We've been doing this for a year and have some friends there. None whose names I know, but I recognize their faces and they know my client well. Today happened to be a bank day. We strolled in, did our business and stepped back out onto the warm street.

"Excuse me," said an unfamiliar hesitant voice.

I turned to see some guy half looking at me and half staring at his feet holding a folded piece of paper out to me. I reached for it wondering what could have fallen from the purse of my client.

"The thing is..if you're not busy..maybe you could call me sometime," he said. Glancing at me he continued, "I think I have a crush on you."

"Oh," I replied. "Dude I'm getting married on Saturday. I just forgot my ring this morning."

He immediately began walking backwards and mumbled a congratulations as he turned to the building.

I tried to place him as a teller, a loan officer, mail carrier, but the plaid shorts and striped shirt gave no indication of any position. Perhaps just another bi-weekly patron? I'll never know as I'm sure he'll never have the courage to approach me (possibly any female) again. Still I couldn't help but be slightly touched by the sweetness of the gesture from an obviously painfully shy boy.

When I mentioned this to my fiance he remarked, "good thing he was sweet. Had it been me I'd have told you 'Oh good so we still have three days' or 'That's awesome that I'm going to be the last guy you ever make out with' or 'Good so you still have three days among the living, there's still time to save you' or 'I know a cry for help when I hear one' or 'You know that's the leading cause of divorce'."

Hmmmm....did I mention that SK spent the last week in a foreign country? Just glad he decided to show up for the ceremony.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Cursed Crooked Sailors

It's hard to tell someone they're right. And in this case I have to tell two people, the Skipper (Erik, our sailing captain) and the Skipper a.k.a the future Mr. Breanna Hall. Guys you were right. First, when you told me that if I didn't sit on the side of the boat when it tipped I would plunge head first into the water only to be saved by the brevity of the air gust. Second, as soon as you dropped me off on shore and ran over me for good luck the wind did indeed pick up and you had the best runs of the day.

Sailing taught me a few things:

I don't need to know more nautical terms than Ben Affleck taught me in the Voyage of the Mimi. Starboard, Port, Mast, Sails will suffice.

Big mast, small keel, we should fly across the water, if ever a wind blew in the Rocky Mountains.

Taunting the wind works if you also sacrifice one rider, preferably the cute one, and ditch her on land (just glad they didn't throw me overboard, which they tried unsuccessfully due to the lack of coordination in their freezing fingers).

The captain should check all rigging I performed, especially anything involving a strap.

The super fast speed of the racing sailboat cruised past the motorboats but was upset by the lightning fast catamaran from Asia, or the Islands, or our next door neighbor. It's a mystery, as is how they passed us.



















Hypothermia sets in before you realize it.

The best time for storytelling occurs as the sailboat eerily turns in slow 360 degree circles while we wait for a breeze or a tow, anything to get us moving.

There is some confusion about a boat and a banana and an old curse.

When your finance pounds you on the back having too much fun with your foam padded lifejacket, do not retaliate, Karma dictates that you will ram your forearm into the nearest cable taking a swing of your own.

The Greek Afro curls innocently in the ocean spray.

Scrambling across the boat while diving through ropes and under the sail with an 18-inch clearance is best done by a small child or a 200 lb. gorilla man.

It takes a few days to recover physically, after the cold and fatigue have your muscles do the sewing machine and your bum is sore from riding the gunwales.

And finally, a magazine staff makes the transition to a perfect crew flawlessly.