For better or worse, here’s a little true story I entered in a Valentine’s Day contest sponsored by
BUS STOP
Well, it wasn’t a Streetcar Named Desire. And Judy Garland wasn’t singing The Trolley Song. But I remember the night John and I met on
that Hope Street
bus as if someone wrote a play about it and someone sang a song.
We were both live-at-home students at Bryant College
in Providence , Rhode Island . It was a Friday evening in October, and I was
on my to help decorate Bryant’s gymnasium for a Halloween dance Phi Sigma Nu
fraternity was holding the next night—a semi-formal, which meant girls would
wear dresses and heels and boys would wear jackets and ties. I was looking forward to it. Even more so when a handsome Phi Sig guy I’d
seen around campus hopped on the bus, and I guessed he was going to help out
too.
The bus was crowded, so he took the seat
next to mine. As the bus lurched along,
starting and stopping at every other block, we began talking and were soon
exchanging names. Wasn’t it the neatest
thing in the world that both our names began with J? Think of it.
How often did that
happen? He loved the same classes I did (business
and English) and, even better, hated the same ones (sociology and accounting).
When our stop came, we stepped onto the
sidewalk in front of the Rexall Drugstore on the corner of Thayer and Waterman
Streets. John said, “It’s kind of dark out
tonight. Would you like me to walk you
over to Bryant?”
Would
I? I’d been hoping he’d ask but would
have died before letting on. So I
accepted his offer with a noncommittal and very sophisticated, “Okay,” but my
heart was pounding. Far from being the
prettiest girl on campus, not even near to such a designation, my self-esteem
was pretty close to zero. What I didn’t
know until much later was that John’s self-image was shaky too.
But on that night, the stars were in
alignment. Either that or some cosmic
aura was shining on us. For the truth is
that two shy, unspoiled kids had found each other. Though only exchanging uncertain glances, not
daring to hold hands, and only speaking of superficial inanities—still, we had
found each other, and somehow we knew it.
We still do. We’ve been married since before the Alps peaked up, and over the years we have loved and
argued in equal measure. But even after
all this time, John and I grow nostalgic whenever we talk about the October
night we first met. The night we took a
bus ride on Hope.
9 comments:
Jean, what a lovely story! And so lovingly written, too. You deserved those chocolates x
Happiness :)
Thanks Clare and Cathy, a bit of shameless grandstanding here, but do forgive me. It won't happen again!
Ah, how lovely. I totally understand how you two came together and just knew it was right, and the stars aligned, or whatever. That's kind of how my husband and I met. So sweet. Thanks for sharing!
Loved this story, Jean--and best of all, it's true!!!
Thanks to Anne Marie and Lisa, Yup, happiness is an old husband!
Aw, Jean. What a lovely story! Thanks for sharing.
I have a broad grin. Thanks for sharing.
Marcelle and Rita, thank you for the warmth.
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