Like Sands through the Hourglass ...

Don’t you love it when an old memory resurfaces .... and you can’t help but smile all over again?

With apologies to Ronnie Milsap, I’m feelin’ lost in the 80’s tonight!

* * *

Having reached my mid-30’s, I didn't think it possible to develop a crush. I was wrong.

Long before “Bridal Fairs” became commonplace, my employers partnered to develop and stage such an exposition. Sure enough, come that chilly January morning, management was ecstatic at promised revenues. The rest of us were already weary ... a good 3 hours before the doors were scheduled to open.

Arriving at the Civic Center, I immediately regretted my decision not to wear a tux, feeling it wouldn’t look feminine.   Wrong .. our team looked glamorous!   The peach suit and pearls I'd selected with such care felt downright frumpy.  Oh well.  
Taking a seat in the foyer, I began sorting registration cards.

Eyeball-to-thighs. Peripherally, I noted a co-worker needed something. Again. 

 “Hold on a sec.” I held up an index finger. “97, 98, 99, 100 ... there!”

“What can I do for ....”

The question died in my throat; my face began to burn. Just two feet away stood the soap-opera “villain” who I’d harbored a ridiculous crush on for years! 

Was it coincidence I’d lost interest “Days” following his scripted demise?

What was HE doing HERE .... today? 

 Belatedly, I recalled the network loaning us one of their actors to boost attendance and moderate the fashion show.... but I’d paid no attention.

Gathering what little wits I had about me, I introduced myself and (with what I hoped would pass as self-deprecating humor) explained my admiration .... and astonishment at his presence.

J was similarly confused. “What, exactly, is a Bridal Fair?”

Happily, I abandoned my post to show him backstage. Improbably, it seemed I’d found a pal: A few moments later J was back to help fold programs, stuff bags.

As the day grew long, our feet were beyond pain; faces stiff from smiling. Still, I was over-the-moon visiting J backstage. More comfortable in the role of listener, I learned of his passion for classical music and the theater. The speech patterns I recalled from television were true ... and endearing!

When J asked what everyone was doing after closing, my imagination went amok. (Of course it did ....)   But later, hating my unfamiliar resolve, I hurried backstage to say goodnight.   And discovered J dozing fitfully in a folding chair.

The next morning, I happened downstairs prior to J’s appearance on the local talk-show. Momentarily shy, I stood aside as he posed for pictures and made the appropriate noises. Mute, I offered a hand. We hugged and smiled for the camera.

You know, after all this time, that remembered hug still feels so good!