How We Met

I was visiting over at Casa Az the other day, and read a very sweet post about how she and her significant other met.   It was such a nice story, and inspired me to tell the story of how Jim and I met. 

It happened that after I had graduated from college and worked for a while that I started dreaming about being a musician.   I had followed the dictates of my parents, relegated music to a “hobby” position and looked for something to do that would earn money.   The problem was, organic chemistry and office work made great money, but stultified my soul.   I attended a six week long chamber music institute one summer, and that started the dreaming process.

Ultimately, what happened was I got my chops in shape, made an audition tape and applied to several music schools.   I got accepted by the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, even got awarded a partial scholarship,  and so I relocated myself to the Bay Area in order to attend this fine school.   My husband at the time, Pete, was a land surveyor.  He had a great job making gobs of money and he agreed to support me while I went to school.  

In order to conserve our financial resources, I found a studio apartment to rent.   This was one room about 15 feet square with a bathroom in a building situated on the main drag along the south side of Golden Gate Park, Lincoln Avenue.   Unbeknownst to me when I signed the lease, this place was one block from the local fire station, and just down the way from UC Medical Center and the UCSF precinct police station.    I figured this out fairly quickly once I moved in.   There were sirens of various sorts on a half hourly basis, day and night.  

It wasn’t long before cabin fever from my close quarters and the constant adrenalin rush from the sirens started driving me mad.   It was bad enough to move from an extremely rural area in Alaska to a large metropolitan area.   The tiny apartment with a view of more apartments and a parking lot made me feel like I was in jail.  The constant noise of traffic and sirens was becoming intolerable.   Then one day the police swarmed our building and used my apartment as a way to gain access to the roof area because they were chasing a murderer.  

It wasn’t long after that that I received a call from my sister, who was on some sort of cargo vessel in Tokyo Bay.   She informed me that she had a fiancee who was in the Navy.   She mentioned that they were both sailing out of San Francisco and they wished to set up housekeeping so that when they were in port they would have their own place to stay.   This was complicated by the fact that they both spent large amounts of time at sea, so they needed someone who could live in the place on a more or less permanent basis and act as a caretaker.   This would also make it easy for them to pay bills, etc.  Was I interested?

I absolutely was interested in changing my living arrangements, and the sooner the better.   But I thought I ought to run it by Pete, so I told her I would have to talk to him.   She said she would call me when she got to Honolulu, as that was their next port of call.  

Well, Pete thought the idea of splitting rent three ways was a great idea.   Plus, my situation would be much more sane for me, because I would be in a two room apartment rather than a tiny box.   So when Sis called back, I told her that we thought we ought to try the arrangement.   Of course, what was supposed to happen when I finished school and went back to Alaska was not discussed.   That was several years in the future, and who knew what was going to happen by then?

So, Sis told me to expect a call from Jim, that we should meet and if we liked each other okay, go ahead and get an apartment together, and move in.   Then when she got off her ship, she would bring her stuff and we would all set up housekeeping together.    And wasn’t it going to be splendid?

A couple of weeks later, my phone rang, and the person identified himself as Jim.   It took me a couple of seconds to field the information.   A lot had been going on, and I had sort of forgotten about this potential move.    We made a date to meet, and so about 1 p.m. on April Fool’s Day, the buzzer in my apartment went off.   I got on the intercom and ascertained it was my expected gentleman caller, and so I buzzed him in.

I was very curious about this man who was my sister’s fiancee and who I was probably going to be sharing an apartment with.   So I peered through the fish-eye security lens installed in my door, waiting for him to come up the stairs.    A tall, dark handsome man clad in dungarees and a Levi denim jacket appeared in the stairwell.   Immediately, my heart, mind and soul jumped to attention.  “He’s the One!”  was all my singing being could think.  

“The One!   SHIT!” was my next, immediate reaction.   I didn’t want to open the door, because I knew that if I did life was going to become just too damned complicated right away.  I was married to a wonderful guy who I held very warm feelings for and who was paying for me to study music in a place thousands of miles away from him.   This stranger was my sister’s boyfriend.   I just didn’t want to go there, or deal with having met my soul mate under those circumstances.  

But I also knew that he knew I was at home.   I had just spoken to him, buzzed him in.  How could I yell through the door, “Go away!  I don’t want you to come in!”   It was just nuts.   So I opened the door, and we shared a very nice bottle of Chardonnay and (of course) got along famously.   

And that is how I met Jim. 

Now, in order to forestall accusations of poaching, I will just say that there was a lot going on that I was unaware of, and that Jim was not privy to either.   When my sister called me from Tokyo, she was heavily involved with the chief engineer aboard the ship she was sailing on.   He had a lovely home in Coronado, a sail boat, lots of MONEY, and her plan was to go live with him.  That is exactly what she did after she dumped Jim, which she did the second she got to port.  Why she manipulated me into getting an apartment with him when she knew she was planning to dump him is one of the mysteries of the cosmos.   Of course, I’m glad she did or I probably would never have met Jim.

And it turned out that my dear husband had acquired a main squeeze to help keep his bed warm in those long Alaskan nights while I was thousands of miles away.   When he finally confronted me in person and asked me if I was coming back to Fairbanks any time soon, one of the things that made my answer to that question fairly urgent was that the lady in question was pregnant with his child.   Of course, I didn’t know THAT for several years after our marriage was dissolved. 

So it all worked out in the end. 

I could write a very interesting book about the time between when we first met until when we got married, though.