Thursday, January 14, 2010


Some 19 years after I first worked with this woman, albeit not for very long, I was miraculously reconnected with her through a third party via Facebook.

What happed next between us would forever change the course of my life and give birth to "Handsome" Paul and my unusual wife search!

The following true story was how I met her and was written by me almost two decades ago ... 


Like a lot of young, girlfriend-less, adult male slackers I suppose, I was a naive, nineteen year old virgin when I accidentally landed an ordinary, ho-hum serving job at an unknown steak and buffet restaurant back in the early nineties.

The aspiring beige and teal restaurant I was to work at, located in a far western suburb of Chicago, was in the middle of a messy and lengthy remodeling job when I was hired so unfortunately for me and my anorexic wallet, I couldn't start working for them right away - though as luck would have it, the construction company remodeling the restaurant was looking for an immediate general laborer.

The construction company which was in dire need of some cheap and temporary help, which I was overwhelmingly both, was run by a couple of sandy haired, hard working, and oxen-like brothers who wasted very little time in giving me the job despite my overall lack of experience.

 My willingness to put in long hours and work for six dollars an hour proved to be the only qualifications I needed. Looking back on it, I’m surprised I didn’t quit within the first day or two of working considering my extreme dislike for physical laboring though somehow and quite miraculously, I managed to endure and even enjoy the job by the time it was drawing to a close.

The hard and physically demanding work I was “cruelly” forced to endure on an hourly basis had surprisingly put a newfound swagger in my step, callous on my hands, and a thin layer of newly defined muscle on my previously gelatin-like physique.

 I was actually starting to feel like an honest to goodness, real life man for the first time in my metro-sexual life.

 The kind of Clint Eastwood, macho-like, blue collar man who would ruggedly chew tobacco, spit, and thrash a man at the slightest perceived insult.

I had also hoped, though not expecting miracles, the newer, tanner, stronger, and more masculine version of me would stand a better chance with the ladies.

 Maybe macho Paul could do something sissy Paul couldn’t, like going out on an actual date!

Fantasies aside and soon after my brief but no less exhilarating delusions of self grandeur, (right around the time the construction company was wrapping up its work on the nearly completed building) the restaurant’s training staff of mostly attractive, twenty something year old women had arrived, unbeknownst to me at the time.

 It was during this bumbling and chaotic transition period I first gazed upon a woman who would unknowingly enchant and haunt my mind for well over 17 years and counting.

The first time I saw her, innocently enough, she had her back towards me and was vigorously cleaning a table top before momentarily pausing to wipe the glistening sweat off her beautiful right brow.

The instant she slowly turned around and unknowingly faced me, while wiping the back of her right hand against her snug fitting khaki pants, I immediately looked the other away in embarrassment so she wouldn’t notice I was staring at her.

 Though in all truthfulness and even as I pretended not to be looking at her, I couldn’t stop gawking at her out of the corner of my left eye.

She was a petite woman, from what I could initially see of her, who stood about five feet three inches tall and probably weighed somewhere in the neighborhood of one hundred and one hundred and ten pounds.

 She had the most innocent, beautiful, and angelic looking face I’d ever seen in a woman not to mention a high forehead, a cute as can be nose, a heart stopping smile as radiant as it was infectious, flawless and perfectly tanned skin, long thick dark brown hair, soul inspiring eyes, a mouthwatering figure, and the rare ability to look both sexy and cute at the very same time.

 She looked like the all American girl and the girl next door every guy dreamed of.

She was hands down and by far, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

(I think I know how Romeo felt the first time he saw the girl of his dreams)

Being a waiter and serving the general public wasn’t something I particularly wanted to do, nor was very fond of, but the idea of pocketing cold, hard cash on a daily basis was too enticing for me to have passed up, especially since I was almost financially and morally bankrupt at the time.

 It certainly seemed like a better and more lucrative option than getting paid every two weeks or monthly as I'd been accustomed to at my other dead end jobs.

 Plus, the fringe benefits of working at this particular restaurant were just a little too tempting for me to have simply walked away from.

Would you believe me if I said my decision to stick it out and give it a try wasn’t influenced in the least by the stunning, pixie-like brunette I saw earlier in the restaurant?

 I didn’t think so and you’re absolutely right, it had everything to do with why I wanted to stay and work there.

But first things first and before the various owners and managers of the steak and buffet restaurant would even dare open up their new establishment to the ever critical taste buds and opinions of the finicky general public, the entire disinterested serving staff had to attend a mandatory meeting held by two of the company’s current and highly esteemed waitresses.

 Turned out the petite brunette I’d been drooling over was one of the trainers and the only thing I remembered about the meeting was learning her name was Diana.

 Other than that little tidbit of information, I hadn’t the faintest idea as to what she said or did during the entire duration of our meeting as not only was she drop dead gorgeous, but she also had a very soft and feminine sounding voice that completely and utterly mesmerized me whenever she spoke.

 I felt an overwhelming sense of calm and peace whenever I heard her voice, like somehow everything was going to be all right.

Somewhat predictably and shortly after the conclusion of our mandatory meeting, just seconds after I floated back down to earth and came to my dim witted senses once again, we were instructed to pair up with a fellow waiter or waitress so we could practice and demonstrate what we supposedly learned during our “all important” meeting.

 When it was my turn to practice and showcase some of my raw but still developing serving skills, I heard a familiar and divine voice just behind my left shoulder say,
“If you guys have any questions or if there’s anything I can help you with, just let me know.”

Wow, I thought, as the hair on my arms among other things rose to attention. My dream girl just spoke to me, almost even touched me … how cool.

On the restaurant’s highly anticipated opening night and much to my giddy satisfaction, Diana unexpectedly but politely approached me to correct a problem she'd observed in my Neanderthal serving technique.

Apparently and on more than one occasion she softly stated, I set my greasy server tray on the tables of customers as I casually tossed about individual meals to everyone as if I were a black jack dealer inside a saloon, a big no-no in the restaurant world I was told though I couldn’t have cared less.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t be the last time Diana helped me or came to my rescue that night as I constantly fell behind and struggled throughout most of my work shift.

During the latter half of the restaurant’s frantic opening night, I couldn’t help but wonder why Diana was helping me out so much especially since there were other waiters and waitresses who needed help just as badly as I had.

Was I that pathetic I kept thinking or was this how she was with everyone else and I just hadn’t noticed until now?

 Either way, the more and more she helped me the fonder I became of her.

During some down time during my first day or two of working as a waiter, I overheard a coworker say she might go with Randy and Diana to a nightclub called Hurricanes after work.

“Randy?” I wondered.

 Randy was the manager of the restaurant.

 The guy was balding and looked like he was in his middle to upper forties while Diana, on the other hand, looked like she was probably in her early twenties at the most.

 Was Diana sleeping with the manager?

 I would’ve guessed she was dating an over-muscled, rich college frat guy who probably drove a sports car, wore designer clothing, and talked incessantly about how much he bench pressed.

 But hey, to each their own I thought.

Maybe she preferred the attractiveness of money and power over the look of youth and brawn, to which I only had one of the four qualities.

However what I am for certain is, I would’ve gladly done or given anything back then to trade places with my restaurant manager even it meant losing most or all of my thick black hair, aging twenty something years, and gaining a hundred plus pounds as long it led to a single hug or kiss from Diana.

I don’t remember if it was the first or second night after the restaurant’s grand opening but I do remember what happened just before closing time on one of those seemingly ordinary nights.

It came as a complete and total shock to me, as I was going through my closing duties for the night, when a woman, who also worked for the restaurant, crouched down across from me as I vacuumed underneath one of the tables I waited on and told me her name was Randy.

She casually mentioned how she and my serving trainer, Diana, were good friends and after a few minutes of pleasant but politically correct small talk, she uniformly began to debrief me about the inner workings of my personal life with a seemingly endless barrage of predetermined questions about myself.

 I couldn’t believe it, an honest to goodness, real life woman was actually talking to me and I thought she might have even liked me on top of it.

Now ordinarily, I would have been on cloud nine and doing back flips if something like this would have happened to me before I met Diana, but all I could think about at the moment was how Randy was a woman and Randy the manager wasn’t the one Diana went out with at night.

Even though I never held out hope Diana and I would ever hook up, it was a relief to know she wasn’t shagging the manager.

 Meanwhile, Randy seemed more interested in talking about Diana and me than anything else and as an end result of our conversation I started daydreaming about the possibility of Diana using Randy to scope me out.

 But like most dreams of glory I suppose, the more I began to think about this utopian-like scenario, the more likely it was Randy probably just didn’t know what else to talk to me about. I wasn’t exactly the most outgoing of guys or even someone who was easy to approach.

I was very shy around women and often gave the impression of being distant and uninterested.

 Turned out Diana and I were both nineteen years old and living with one of our respective grandmothers.

There were so many times during the first few days I worked with Diana where I’d catch her doing something so sweet and kind I couldn’t help but daydream being married to her.

I couldn’t have created a woman any better than her.

It was if she was the design of my imagination ... A dream girl come to life.

 Like the time she invited me and another shy and dorky waiter I was hanging out with at the time, to come eat with her and another female coworker even though neither of us considered ourselves cool or attractive by any stretch of the imagination.

As simple a gesture as it was, no woman had ever asked me to do that before nor do I remember what we talked about or even if we talked at all.

What I do remember however, even after all these years, was the way she sat Indian style on her bench seat nibbling on her food … she couldn’t have looked any cuter.

(My world was lonely, indifferent, colorless, and incomplete until Diana walked into it ... The following is what I hoped and prayed would happen between the two of us)
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  1. Hey Paul,

    Just want to say that I waited a really long time to meet the right person. Finally at 45 I feel I have met the right guy. I passed up many a rich and handsome man, (not that my fiance is unattractive or poor by any means).. but I knew I wanted REAL Love. Love will find you when you are truly ready.. So get prepared as best you can. I think being as witty as you are with obvious good tastes in writing and movies that you will find the right love for you some day soon! Don't give up and keep laughing.

  2. You're making all this effort, I think it's time to seek her out. 17 yrs is long enough

  3. You are an inspiration to males like myself <3 and Australia, keep it up (without the Viagra ;))