It Began at the Grocery Store

It was one year ago today. A routine run to the grocery store enriched my life beyond my wildest dreams. It also nearly cost the life of my love and destroyed me.

I’m Amy Waters. At the time I was a third-year nursing student at Temple University in Philadelphia along with my two beautiful roommates Sami and Jenn. When I say they’re beautiful, I’m talking swimsuit model beautiful. Both have long, flowing natural blonde hair, perfect facial structures, flawless complexions, and perfect shapes to drive every man in their path to distraction and an immediate erection.

I’m their ugly but bubbly sidekick. At least that’s how I always saw myself. But in the spirit of objectivity, I’m more ... cute, but ordinary. While my friends are suitable candidates for “Baywatch” – I’m more the Food Network type. I’m told I look like a young Rachael Ray, but I think she’s gorgeous and I’m not sure I measure up to her standards.

I’m not skinny, but not obese either. Cruel kids from high school liked to call me Miss Piggy, but I just considered the source and didn’t let it bother me too much. I had plenty of real friends around me. Sure, I’ve held on to some baby fat, but I was fit and healthy – so screw them! But I’m okay with being the “not pretty but cute” bubbly girl. I was comfortable with me – even if some insecurities creep in on occasion.

All three roommates were fortunate in that our families totally supported our life at college. With money to live and eat never being an issue, it freed us up to study and even take summer courses rather than having to find jobs. We had the ideal environment to succeed in college, and with it came a comfortable routine with minimal stress - other than keeping up our grades. It also gave us appropriate time for social lives. All three of us were not really the type to party hard. You could safely say we willfully led appropriately balanced lives.

My roommates and I had a Saturday routine. After sleeping in we’d have a late breakfast at our favorite local diner. Then I’d go to the grocery store. I’m the only one of the three of us that can cook, so we split the grocery bill and they’d give me a break on rent to serve as the house cook. I paid 25% of the rent and expenses, while Sami and Jenn split the remaining 75%. It was a winning arrangement for all of us.

My Saturday, that day a year ago, started like every Saturday. We enjoyed our mid-morning breakfast with talk of classes and the wide disparity of the attributes exhibited by various professors. Dr. Jenkins is a pompous ass ... Mz. Olney really seems to care and knows how to teach ... you get the picture. But the bulk of the time is spent discussing friends – especially boyfriends. Jenn and Sami were teasing me about being rather noncommittal regarding my boyfriend at that time, Hunter. To be honest, Hunter was failing miserably at being my ideal guy and I was struggling to find a way to let him go. Plus, without any real alternative at that point, there was no urgent need to cut him off.

Breakfast catchup ended, and it was time for my grocery run. I made my way to The Fresh Grocer in Progress Plaza, which was only a few blocks from our apartment. Jenn offered to go with me to help carry our goodies home. That week the order was going to be fairly sizable so I accepted her offer. She hated actually going into the store, so she did a little window shopping nearby then would meet me at a bench outside the store.

While walking in, my head was in the millennial march position – looking down at my phone. I have an app that I used to organize my grocery list and I was planning my attack on the aisles that lay before me.

That’s when my life changed.

As I entered the store, a woman bumped into me and I looked up to apologize. Instead of turning to look at her, my eyes transfixed on the face about 15 feet in front of me. It was a gorgeous face. His dark rusty red hair was attractively messy and highlighted his features that were somehow very manly, but boyish as well. He appeared to be about 6’ tall and he seemed trim and fit - perhaps even athletic. His captivating blue/gray eyes were staring back at me as if he were in a hypnotic state. But most unusual, his mouth was open almost as if he’d seen a ghost. But not with fear. More like disbelief. I couldn’t help but stare back.

Our mutual gaze seemed to last for hours, and yet it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. We both smiled rather sheepishly, and he turned with his cart to go into the store.

“What the heck just happened?” I thought to myself. “Did I recognize him from somewhere? Had he said something? I don’t think so. Why did he feel so familiar?”

I willed myself to get a grip on the moment and start the weekly chore awaiting me. I didn’t need anything from the first aisle, so I proceeded down aisle two. After gathering a few items, I approached the end of the aisle as my handsome vision turned to come past me from the other direction. Without slowing, we both locked eyes briefly, then looked down with silly grins as we passed. “Is it getting warm in here?” I thought to myself.

In Aisle three, we passed again with the same look, identical grins, and continued on our separate paths. “Get a hold of yourself, Amy!” I scolded myself.

I prepared to go down aisle four with a flurry of thoughts. “Will it happen again? What should I do? Should I say something? What should I say? Should I grab him and take him home like a lost puppy? What if he’s not single? Do I care? Of course, I care! No, I don’t. I really need to pee.”

He turned into the aisle from the other end just as I entered from my side. We had a whole aisle to navigate while in each other’s view. “Damn. He’s gorgeous! Are we going to talk? Will he make the first move? Damn, I have to pee badly!”

The trip down the aisle seemed in slow motion. Our gazes were locked on each other. I wasn’t sure if either of us blinked. I was mesmerized by his eye’s and his smile. He had such intensity, and yet a softness at the same time. Everything about him was warm, friendly, inviting. They say when you die that your life flashes before you. My future in his arms flashed in my mind as if it were already history. Dating, mating, joining, growing old together – all of it there as if our story was written. “At some point, we’ll need to talk if any of that is to come true!” I thought.

My mind went into overdrive. “He’s almost here! Say something – anything. Is he trying to talk? He’s thinking of what to say. I can see it. Should I say something? Why doesn’t he say something? Say something! SAY SOMETHING!”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles in a throaty masculine voice. “I know I keep staring at you, and this is going to sound cheesy, but do we know each other?”

“Yes.”

“We know each other? Where from?”

“No ... I don’t think we know each other.”

“But, you said yes!” He looked totally confused.

“I said yes because that was totally cheesy.” I smiled hoping he found that was funny.

“We’ve known each other for only a few seconds and already you’re screwing with my head?” He smiled back.

“Just being honest. That wasn’t the best pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

“Can I try again?”

“Are you trying to pick me up?”

“If you want honesty, that wasn’t my initial intent.”

“So what is your intent?” I smiled. I wanted him to know I was comfortable even if my insides didn’t agree.

My mind continued to process. ‘And I really, really have to pee! I hope he doesn’t say something to make me laugh too hard.’

“I felt like ... well, like we somehow connected in some way. And if we really haven’t met before, then I wanted to meet you and figure out this wild attraction I felt!”

“Now that was cheesy!” I smiled and walked on.

My brain when nuts. “What are you doing? You idiot! Don’t play hard to get. You felt it too. Don’t let him get away! Turn around! TURN AROUND! Damn – He’s turned the corner. Go to the next aisle and talk to him. Open your freaking mouth and talk to him. DAMN. I. HAVE. TO. PEE!”

He came down the next aisle at the same pace as the last aisle. I held his gaze again, then left my cart and walked up to the front of his cart. I looked into his eyes with a nervous smile.

“Me too!”

“What do you mean?”

“I had the same feeling I can’t explain. Is that weird?”

“Absolutely weird. But I need to figure it out. What about you?”

I held out my hand. “I’m Amy. Amy Waters.”

He took my hand to shake it. We touched and a sudden energy flowed between. It was as if ... as if a circuit was completed that lit every corner of my being. I gasped. His eyes opened wider with a momentary look of surprise – I think he felt it too!

“Amy Waters, I am sooo glad to meet you. I’m Mark Danton.”

His smile was Cheshire-cat wide, his face glowed. His teeth sparkled. I swear – they sparkled!

“So, Mark Danton – what now?”

“First, just call me Mark. Mark Danton sounds too formal.” He grinned trying to be funny.

“So, do you reserve the right to call you Mark only for certain people?”

“Just friends ... and beautiful girls I see in the grocery store.”

“I’m not sure I qualify, Mark Danton.”

“I think you’re 75% of the way there.”

“Only 75%?”

“You nailed the beautiful part. And we’re not friends yet, but I think we have the potential.”

I blushed. I don’t feel beautiful, but I’m not going to challenge him. Maybe he forgot his glasses or something.

“Then, Mark, why don’t we walk in the same direction. Getting to know each other as if we’re two ships constantly passing may prove less than efficient.”

“Great idea, Amy! So see, I’ve already learned you’re practical and a genius.”

We started to walk next to each other.

“I don’t know about genius, but smart enough to see that maybe you have some potential too.”

“Potential for what?” he asked.

“Yes. That’s the real question, Mark Danton.”

“I’ve learned a few other things about you too!”

“Do I want to know?” He had my curiosity piqued.

“Well, you’re funny. You have the greatest smile. And the moment I saw you at the door I knew you were the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen!”

The brain kicks in again, thinking of all the insecurities I keep hidden. ‘Beautiful? Please. You mean beautiful Miss Piggy impersonator. Shut up brain. Let him talk. Don’t say something stupid. DON’T SAY SOMETHING STU... ‘

“Now that’s cheesy!”

“No. It’s a solid fact.” He emphasized his observation softly and politely.

“So an ordinary girl who rolled out of bed, ran a brush roughly through her hair, and set out in baggy clothes without makeup for a lazy Saturday – you find beautiful?”

“Amy, I’ll tell you exactly what’s on my mind and it will be the truth. I know beauty is subjective. I’m telling you, from the depths of my soul, that I find you incredibly attractive. Makeup and hairstyles alone don’t make beauty. Your eyes, the depth I see in them, your smile, the beautiful shape of your face, and everything else I see when I look at you is my definition of absolute beauty. And the more I see your personality glow, the more beautiful you become.”

“Well, Mark Danton, for a lot of the same reasons, I think you’re rather beautiful too.”

“So, Amy Waters ... are you ever going to call me just Mark?” His electric smile was riveting.

“If that would please you, Just Mark!” I stifled a giggle.

“I’ve also learned you’re a bit of a smart ass! At least it’s also gorgeous.” His eyes made an exaggerated trip to gaze at my backside.

I couldn’t hold back an explosive laugh. I was really trying to avoid peeing myself by that point.

“Mark.” I smiled acknowledging I could address him as he preferred. “Unfortunately I need to get some of these cold items home. Give me your phone.”

He handed his phone to me and I set up my number for him.

“May I call you this afternoon, Amy?”

“Any time before 5:00.”

“I want to get to know you, Amy Waters. I don’t know where this unusual meeting will take us, but I’m aching to find out!”

“We share aches, Mark. Good aches.”

I leaned into him and we hugged. It was a warm, inviting hug dripping with a strong desire to hold onto it for a while. There would be no kiss this time - but I was sure the time would soon come.

Mark was through the checkout and out the door before me. He turned with one last great smile as he exited the store. When I came out, Jenn was there tapping her foot. I almost forgot she’d be there. Well, okay, there was no almost about it – I forgot.

“What took you so long!”

“Oh, nothing special. I just met a really nice guy!”

She squealed with delight. “Where is he? Wait ... what about Hunter?”

“As I said at breakfast, it’s not working for me. I need to find a way to let him down easily.”

“You’re seeing Hunter tonight, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m not ready to do it this moment.”

I filled her in on the details as we just about skipped home. I still really had to pee, but it was the excitement of the conversation that set the walking pace.

By noon I had the groceries put away. Saturday was a no-cook day. We always had our late big breakfast at the diner, and we all usually had dates in the evening. I was prepared to have a lazy afternoon to myself. But now, I wanted to hear Mark’s voice more than anything in the world. At 1:14 PM, I got my wish.

“Hey, Beautiful!” I answered.

“You stole my line.”

“I just thought we could get ‘the mutual admiration’ out of the way early.”

“Smart girl.”

“So, Mark, do you always come up to strange women in the grocery store and feed them cheesy pick-up lines?”

He laughed. “Believe it or not, I’m normally really shy and would chicken out before I said anything.”

“So why didn’t you chicken out this time?”

“I almost did. Inside I was shaking like a leaf and I thought I was going to pee myself!”

I broke out laughing. “I can’t believe you said that!”

“I’m sorry. Was that TMI?”

“No, no ... I thought they would have to page someone for a ‘cleanup in aisle five’ I had to pee so bad.”

He can’t contain his laughter. “So next time I want to meet a girl in a grocery store I should say something like ... Hi, I really want to meet you but we should go to the restroom first?”

We enjoyed light-hearted banter for a while. It felt comfortable just chatting and getting to know each other.

“So, Amy, I assume you attend Temple too?”

“You assume correctly. I’m finishing up my third year studying nursing.”

“Wow! I admire anyone who can work in the medical field. If I see blood, my own or otherwise, I pass out!”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Please don’t test me on that. So, why’d you want to become a nurse?”

“About 7 years ago my sister had a bad case of meningitis. She’s fortunate she pulled through. But we spent weeks with her at the hospital and I was just really struck by how her nurses were there to help. Whenever someone asked me what I wanted to be, I always said I wanted to do something to make lives better. I started to talk with one of the attending nurses, Sandy Phillips. She was really sweet and really helped steer my decision to be a nurse. I still stay in contact with her.”

“I love that you have such a clear path in sight and for solid reasons. Is there a particular role in nursing you want to go after?”

“I gave it a lot of thought, and I’ve taken part in Candy Stripers and other hospital volunteer work. I have my heart set on pediatrics.”

“Oh my Lord. You’re even more amazing than I thought if you’re strong enough to deal every day with sick kids and some of the heartbreaks that must come with that profession. I really admire you!”

“It does scare me. And I know pediatrics can burn people out. I volunteered at Children’s Hospital and got to know some beautiful children that didn’t make it. I cried for days after my first experience with a young boy who died from leukemia. Sandy really helped me learn how to deal with it. You need to take joy in the fact that you were the right kind of person for them to be around during their final days and that they knew how much you really cared. She said it will always be hard, and if it becomes easy then it’s time to walk away. She also said to focus on the good stories to put in perspective why you want to be there.”

“Now I’m kind of embarrassed. It makes my career-of-choice seem lame.”

“Don’t be like that, Mark. Everyone contributes to humanity in our own way that’s right for us. So what are your plans?”

“I’m in my third year working towards a B.S. in Music Education.”

“That’s awesome! I’ve got a real weakness for musicians, and you want to work with kids too? I think that’s fantastic. What instruments do you play?”

“I’m a piano major and voice minor.”

“Really! I play the piano too and often sing solos at church. We can be a duet! So, are you any good?”

“How can I answer without either projecting false modesty or sounding big-headed?” He chuckled.

“I’ll give you a pass without judgment. Just this once, tell me exactly how good you are as if you were someone else describing you.”

“Okay – here it goes. My voice is alright. I think I’m pleasant to listen to and I can put a song over. The piano is my strong suit, though. I’m told I could be a featured solo artist if I want to be. And, frankly ... I’m damn good.”

“I can’t wait to hear you. Just curious, though - If you have that kind of potential, why are you going for a degree in education instead of performance?”

“There’s a lot of reasons. It costs too much of yourself to make it as a concert pianist. You’re always on the road and your life isn’t really yours. I want a family, a home, some kids, a couple of dogs, and a life that is worth living.”

“Doesn’t making people feel good through your music seem worthwhile?”

“Giving folks a few moments of musical pleasure isn’t worth the cost of a meaningful life. Playing for other people doesn’t really do that much for me. I play for myself. Plus, I really love kids. I like to see their eyes light up when they really take hold of music and begin to feel it.”

“It sounds like you have yourself figured out pretty well too. I’m impressed!”

“You haven’t heard me play yet. How do you know you’ll be impressed?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” I grinned. “The way you know yourself and have thought all that through is impressive. But I’ve still got to hear you play.”

“I want to hear you play too.”

“Are you kidding? In front of a concert artist?” I laughed.

“Hey, no judgment.”

“Okay. Sorry. We’ll play for each other – soon I hope.”

“Maybe on our second date?”

“Second? We haven’t had a first yet.”

“Then I guess I should first ask ... are you seeing someone?” Whispering as if he’s talking to himself, he chants... “Please say no – please say no! Dang – did I say that out loud?”

He had me laughing again. His humor is as cute as he is!

“Yes.”

“What – yes you’re seeing someone?”

“Yes to - you did say that out loud.”

“I’ve got to stop asking you more than one question at a time. What about my other question?”

“Well, sort of yes – but let me clarify. Just before I met you I had breakfast with my roommates and told them I was going to end it with my boyfriend, Hunter.”

“Hunter? He doesn’t carry a gun, does he?”

Damn, he’s got a great sense of humor. Quick too.

“No, no.”

“Can I ask why you want to break up with him?”

“We’re on a totally different wavelength and, frankly, there’s zero chemistry. But now it’s your turn. Are you seeing someone?”

“Not now, but I’m really hoping that’s about to change!”

“So you’re chasing some poor girl like a hound? Who is she? Someone I should worry about?”

“Her name is Amy. You should definitely worry about her. She may be the sweetest girl I think I’ve ever met.”

“You only think?”

“I don’t know for sure yet. She might hate dogs or something, so I’m reserving judgment.”

My face was going to break – I don’t think I ever smiled that long and that hard. We talked for hours. He was concerned about pursuing another man’s girl (he’s so damn considerate) but I assured him that I had already planned to break up with Hunter. And yes, I had a date with Hunter that night but it may take another day or two give him his freedom.

We went through all the likes and dislikes as if we were preparing for a game show that would test how well we knew each other. It was an easy conversation. I don’t think I ever felt more comfortable talking with a man, and that convinced me more than anything that Mark was something special.

I decided to hit him with a potential barrier to a relationship – the same barrier that has cost me boyfriends in the past but also showed me everything I needed to know about them and why the breakups were worth it.

“Mark, can we talk about something important?” I knew this was a phrase that paralyzed most men with fear and trepidation.

“Sure beautiful! By the way, I’m going to need an acceptable pet name – you know – a term of endearment for you ... like Sweetie or something.”

“I’m sure we can find something at some point.”

“What do you want to talk about, Sweetie?”

I laughed. “Okay, Sweetie it is for now.”

“Good. So, what’s the important thing you want to talk about?”

“Sex!”

“Ohhh Kayyy. Can you see me blush over the phone?”

I cracked up. “No!”

“So, by ‘talk’ about, are you asking for it? ‘Cause, damn girl, you burn quickly!” His laugh gave away he was teasing and not expecting a quick roll in the hay.

“Down boy. No. I just think that ... sometime soon, after I deal with Hunter, that you and I are ... you know, potentially going to be in a state of mind and arousal that ... well, it might come up.”

“Did you say ‘come up’ to bait me into confessing the current state of my little friend?” He laughed nearly uncontrollably. I guess this is what ROTFLMAO sounds like over the phone.

“No, but thanks for sharing. Since you confessed, my current state of arousal has me sitting in a puddle, so we’re even!” We both laughed even harder.

We finally calmed down and with bits of remaining laughter floating through, he asked, “So, what do you need to know about sex?”

“Okay. Seriously now.” Minor bursts continued. “I just need to let you understand where I am on the issue at hand.” That led to more ROTFLMAO.

“Amy, Sweetie, if you keep feeding me with double entendres, we’ll never get through this subject.”

“I’m sorry. So, plunging ahead...” That was it. We lost control for a few minutes.

“Amy! My side aches. We need to be serious!”

“I’m sorry. So, forging ahead ... I wanted to be clear that I’m, well ... a virgin. And I want to stay that way until my wedding night.”

I waited to hear if there was silence on the other end, or maybe even the sound of disconnection. Instead, I heard a sigh – but what kind of a sigh I couldn’t tell.

“Sweetie, we still don’t know each other well and I haven’t earned the right yet to automatically expect that you’ll believe what I say, but I need you to believe this. That is a huge relief to me. To my shame, I can’t say that I’m a virgin. I wish I was for a lot of reasons. But if we do become romantically involved, and believe me I want nothing more than that, you will be a virgin until your wedding night if I’m the one there with you.”

My mind was flooded with thoughts. “Could this be true? Is he saying that because that’s what I want him to say? He sounds so sincere. He’s perfect for me. Oh, thank God!” I was weeping with joy. I couldn’t contain it. Mark could tell.

“Amy, are you okay?”

“I’m – more okay than I think I’ve ever been!” I needed to know his motivation as if it would confirm what he already told me.

“Mark, why are you okay with this – and why are you ashamed to not be a virgin?”

“Sweetie, I’m ashamed because of my faith. I didn’t believe in God when I lost my virginity. But now I know why I should have cherished mine, and why I’ll cherish yours. I understand all the reasons why it’s something to be saved and treasured for the right moment. Why do you want to save yourself?”

“Mark?”

“Yes?”

“For exactly the same reason. It’s the gift I want to share with the man who loves me and has become my life mate. It’s a gift for us both on that night. I think God knows what He’s doing, and I trust His guidance with this.”

“Amy?”

“Yes?”

“I want to date you so much right now.”

“Give me a few days, and I’ll let you know when I’ve paved the way.”

“Damn phone!”

“Why?”

“I also really want to kiss you right now!”

“A few more days, Sweetie.”

“Hey- that’s my name for you. You’ve got to be more creative.”

“Okay. How about ... Meatball?” I snickered.

“What! Why?” Mark was chuckling.

I put on my sexiest voice. “Because I llllovvvve meatballs.”

“Oh. Meatball could be good!”

The clock disobeyed. I wanted it to stand still. But it was 4:30 and time to get ready to see Hunter. Mark and I said a long goodbye and set a time to talk tomorrow.

I took a cab to Hunter’s place at 5:30. Hunter lived with three roommates. J.D. and Will were pigs. They were rude, crude, and often lewd – the three deadly “udes”. The other roommate, Paul, was actually a sweet guy. I knew he had a crush on me, but I also knew he wouldn’t cross Hunter. Personality-wise, Paul was more my style than Hunter. But Hunter had a rugged look that appealed to me. I had no chemistry with Paul although he wasn’t bad looking.

Hunter’s personality was in the middle of the extremes set by his roommates. He could be sweet, but he occasionally exhibited the deadly “udes” too. That was the biggest part of my problem with Hunter. He pushed my limits as far as he could. He was certainly not a virgin and didn’t understand why I wanted to be. I’m not a total prude. Actually, I’m quite passionate and have lots of sexual fantasies I want to share, but mostly with my husband. Hunter and I have crossed second base, but I wasn’t ready for the oral aspects of third base. Mutual masturbation was as far as I wanted to go, and we’ve been there. Hunter still pushed, and I didn’t budge.

Tonight was Hunter’s typical date plan. Pizza, beer for him, soda for me, and then sit on the couch seeing how far he could push me. The old leather couch in the basement was in front of a TV, but it was also Hunter’s preferred petting spot. With my plans to end it, I really wanted to have a talk with Hunter and avoid touchy-feely. Hunter wasn’t cooperating.

“Come on Babe. I’m really backed up here. If you don’t want to get off ... fine. But help me out!”

Note to self – “don’t let Mark call me Babe.”

“Alright – if I wank you off, can we talk a little?”

“Sure Babe.”

His rod was already out. I don’t have a lot of experience, but Hunter seemed rather small compared to other guys. Fully erect I’d guess he’s a little over five inches without much girth. One hand is all I needed. The other blessing is that he didn’t last long. This certainly was a blessing now, but didn’t thrill me for any future we might have had.

I was sitting on Hunter’s right side. Dutifully, I reached across with my right hand and began his short flight to release. In this somewhat awkward position, Hunter saw an opportunity and couldn’t pass it up. He put his right hand behind my neck and forced my face to his crotch.

“Come on, Babe. Give it a little kiss and suck.”

“Hunter! Stop it!” I was trying to fight him but he’s too damn strong.

“You want it Babe, and I know I want it.”

Truth be told – yes – I wanted it. I’ve spent a lot of fantasy time on oral play – often using my fingers as a make-shift phallus while masturbating. But I wanted to reserve that for marriage and I certainly didn’t want to be forced. He ground his cock on my clenched lips while I refused to open my mouth. It didn’t matter. Mr. “Quick-Shot” came all over my face – even up my nose.

“You jerk!”

“You know you liked it.”

“Liked what? Getting my face jammed into your pecker while it shoots all over me?”

“Just swipe it into your mouth and swallow. You’ll see it tastes good Babe!”

“Don’t call me Babe, you moron. I’m cleaning up and I’m outta here!”