We Used to Fall in Love A Lot

On Saturday night, we went with my mother-in-law, to a very nice restaurant in Waterford. The night was lovely, temperature nearly forty, no cold wind, and the air smelling of nearly spring. Shortly, after we were seated, our server, a very pretty girl, small, sort of snowboarder size, with a great smile and the uniquely spelled name "Lindsie," read us the list of specials. Not being interested in the specials, I glanced around the room. Sitting next to us, with his mom and dad, was a guy of about 20 in a college sweatshirt. He didn't notice that I happened to look at him, because he was looking at Lindsie, and there were stars in his eyes. I knew he had fallen instantaneously in love.

This moment, combined with the fact that spring was in the air in Waterford, sent my mind reeling back to 1966 or '67. About 20 miles from where I was sitting is the UAlbany campus, and back those many years, when spring was in the air, or fall or winter for that matter, my roommate Mike and I would fall instantaneously in love, like the kid at the next table, at least 2 or 3 times a week. Mike would come back from the library, and say, "G, I just fell in love." I would come back from the humanities building and say, "Rose, I think I'm in love." It was wonderful, foolish, and frustrating, because usually we wouldn't see the girl we had fallen in love with again for months, if ever. After all, the university had a huge campus, full of girls worthy of falling in love with. (That's one of those sentences that just needs to end in a preposition.) Mike was particularly good at getting first names and hometowns. He would then come back to the room and search through the thousands of names in the campus directory until he found the full name of the young woman who had swiftly stolen his heart. I wasn't effective at all. I was too shy.

An extremely major issue in the life of many a teenish or twenty something-ish guy is the perfect girl watch. The seeking of the soulmate, so to speak. Until I happened upon the boy at the table in Waterford, who had been quietly thunderstruck by Lindsie, I may have forgotten the sweetness and agony of being alive and on society's version of the prowl. I felt really bad for the kid next to me, because he was with his mom and dad. If he'd been with his buddies, he could have turned and said, "Hey, guys! I'm in love!"

I hope this post,

is not too smarmy for most.