Throughout the many (and I do mean many) years of dating,
one desire always prevailed… I wanted an interesting story of “how we met.” Obviously, everyone thinks their “how we met”
story is interesting because it so personal to them; I just wanted our story to
be a fascinating one… different from all of the others. I’m a story teller so it was frightening for
me to think that I might not have a story to tell. As it turns out, I had nothing to worry
about. The story of how Emmett and I met
has regaled many… all I have ever needed to say is “I married my bellman.”
In October 2005, a group of girlfriends and I had decided to
do a “girly girl” weekend in Miami for Columbus Day Weekend. The group consisted of Laura, Jessica, Sophia
and me – four women with a mission to forget all of our responsibilities and
just have a wonderful time. None of us
had a thought about meeting anyone in South Beach. For those who do not know, South Beach is
akin to San Francisco or Provincetown in terms of the male gay population. We all figured we would have a great time and
maybe hang out with some fabulous new
friends.
Once we arrived in Miami, we checked into the Miami Loews
Hotel. It was beautiful. It sits right on the main stretch of the
beach and is about as glamorous a hotel as you would comfortably want. It has a huge private pool (overlooking the
ocean) where guests can cool off and lounge showing off their designer bathing
suits and new post op bodies. The lobby
of the hotel is done in all granite (or is it marble… I never do know the
difference) and everything gleams, including the staff. It is impressive.
We valeted our car and at once a tall, nice looking bellman
approached and asked us if he could assist us with our bags. I’m not sure he realized what he was getting
into offering to assist four women with their weekend luggage. Believe me when I tell you that the number of
bags went into the double digits. Still,
our bellman (who sported the name tag “Emmett”) was cheerful as could be and
before we knew it our bags were up in our room.
During this time, I had received a call from my bank as I was working out
a car loan with them. I was otherwise
diverted and did not notice that Emmett was spending an extraordinary amount of
time showing the other girls around the room.
Later Emmett would say that he literally spent 45 minutes showing Laura,
Jessica and Sophia all the amenities the room had to offer and explaining in
great detail the night life of South Beach – all the time hoping that I would
get off of the phone and he could meet me.
After Emmett had shown the girls where all of the electrical
outlets were, and I still had not got off the phone, he realized he had to go
back to work. Sophia had noticed that
Emmett had been glancing over at me in an interested way. Being the matchmaker that she is, she
wondered if he might be interested in joining us out that night – maybe he
could show us around. Emmett immediately
agreed and he gave Sophia his phone number.
At dinner that night, we all got to talking about our
lives. Two of the women (Laura and
Sophia) were divorced, Jessica was married and I was still single. All of us discussed the difficulties of our
current relationships or lack
thereof. I stated that I thought mine
was the hardest because they had all been married and had children. I had not had the opportunity for either and
didn’t know if I ever would at this point.
I was 39. It hadn’t
happened. Would it ever I wondered?
Sophia set her salad fork down on her plate and looked at me
with all earnestness and said “you have not learned to let your walls
down. Once you do, you will meet
someone. Can you let your walls down for
this weekend?” I thought about what she
said and declared I would give it a shot.
“I just want to say though, it’s not like I don’t look for someone to
meet. I’m 39 folks. All I do is look. If I’m in the shower alone, I look.” It never occurred to me that I had already
met my future husband and I hadn’t even noticed him in particular. No wonder I was still single!
We never did meet up with Emmett that first night. It turns out we had copied down the wrong
number. The next morning, Sophia and
Laura saw Emmett in the lobby and rushed over to him telling him that they had
the wrong number and still wanted him to come out with us. They corrected the
number situation and that night, when we were at Sky Bar, Sophia called Emmett
and handed me her phone. “But I don’t
even know him,” I objected. I hate
talking to people I don’t know on the phone.
“That’s the point,” she explained.
Fifteen minutes later, Emmett and his brother Sam were at
Sky Bar. I noticed them right away but
was busy hanging out with my friends.
Emmett and his brother were not rushing over to talk to us either. They had found a group of bachelorettes and
were busy entertaining the lovely and drunk ladies. At some point, I believe I saw Sam with a
bridal tiara propped up on his head.
Eventually Emmett and Sam made their way over to us. Emmett sidled up next to me, draped his long
arm around me and asked in his soft Southern accent “now why is it that itty
bitty girls like you always like big tall guys like myself?” I was a little shocked at his cockiness but
also I thought he was gay to honest – this was South Beach wasn’t it? Guys here are supposed to be gay (or else big
time Rappers). “I didn’t know I was,” I
declared. Emmett looked me straight in
the eye and said “If you aren’t now darlin’, you will be.” I don’t think either of us had any idea how
right he was going to be.
After the entertainment value of Sky Bar died down for the
group, Emmett offered to take us to “the Back Door.” It wasn’t until later, that I realized he
meant that he was bringing us in the back door of Mansion (the hottest, most
in-your-face club on the beach). I
thought “the Back Door” was the name of a gay club – again being South Beach
and all.
Mansion was insane.
The music was thumping as loud as city ordinances (if there were any)
would allow. People were in various
states of dress and undress. Everyone
was dancing. The club was dark save the
laser light show that was zipping all about the club. Emmett got us all complimentary drinks and
then stuck by my side like glue as we made our way around Mansion.
As we started talking, Emmett kept trying to hold my
hand. I was resistant at first – not because
I still thought he was gay. I had
abandoned that thought earlier when I had caught him staring at the front (or
lack thereof, of what is now referred to as my “lucky shirt”). I was resistant because I was on vacation;
because he was six years younger than me; because I am not what I would
consider a “cougar”; because, because, because…. Because my walls were up, I
suddenly realized. I let them down, if
only for the evening. I let Emmett hold
my hand. I let Emmett accompany me to
the ladies room. I let him come in the
ladies room and I let him kiss me in the lobby of ladies room for a good half
hour. I lost track of my friends and
just had fun with this tall, good looking, funny guy.
Before we knew it, four o’clock rolled around. I took a quick tour of the club and when I
couldn’t find my friends, let Emmett walk me back to the Loews. As he worked at the hotel, he was not allowed
to be in there with a guest. We sat on a
bench close to the hotel and talked for another hour or so. During this time, he picked up my hand,
looked into my eyes and said “I’ve looked my whole life over for a girl like
you… now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting you go.” To be honest, it was both delightful and
frightening to hear such a statement… not to mention that my bullshit meter
went off. How many times, had I heard
empty declarations from guys? Whatever
their reasons were (drunk, lonely, a little of both); it had never worked
out. I had no illusions that this would
be any different and told him so. Emmett
just smiled and said “I’m from Missouri – the Show Me state. I can show you better than I can tell you.” Again, I don’t think either of us really knew
how right he would turn out to be.
Emmett and I ended up dating long distance from October until
the end of May that next year when he moved up to Massachusetts to join
me. A few months earlier I had tried to
break it off with him (as much as it hurt) because “I can do long distance but
I can’t do long term long distance.” He
surprised me and told me (without any hesitation) that he would move to
Massachusetts. I had never had anyone
make such a grand gesture of love. I was
so used to breaking up with guys because they were “too busy” or “confused
about old relationships” or “moving to another country. “ The reasons were
endless. I had never had one person
offer to go out of their way to stay with me.
I was floored; I was scared but I was happy.
On my fortieth birthday, just eleven months after Emmett and
I met, during a gianormous birthday bash that my family and friends threw for
me, Emmett asked me to marry him. I was
really happy for so many reasons but a huge secret reason was now I knew I
would have a really interesting “story of how we met.”
Jessica, me, Laura and Sophia on our "girly girl" weekend away on South Beach
Emmett and me on our wedding day (June 24, 2007)
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