Lover #2

My favorite of them all!

He was so great. My parents liked him, he was tall, dark and handsome, and basically just the sweetest guy in the whole world. I loved him to no end, but sometimes he was kind of dumb. Of course, dumb in the best way.

Take for example, the first time I saw him.

I was at Wegmans for my second interview around late April, 2012, and some goofy tall cashier was pretending to shoot another cashier with the laser on the hand scanner. I remembered thinking, “wow, that’s mature.”

Then the first time I talked to him.

Late July, probably July 23rd.

I was on a pretty regular schedule at Wegmans at the time, so I had a general idea of who else would be there when I was working. I got put down toward one of the low end registers with an adjustable belt. Adjustable belts move up and down for taller or shorter people. Lover #2, who was still a stranger to me at the time, was 6’4″, so the managers tried to keep him on specific registers. I had come in during his break, and they put me on his register while he was out. The belt was up to my chin. I moved it down to a reasonable height and thought nothing of it.

Then he came back from break. He was so. cute. I couldn’t handle it. So naturally, I said something. I’ve always been flirty and outgoing, and I was wearing my red Wegmans polo that day which I definitely pulled off the best out of the 5 polo shirts I had. There was nothing to lose.

“Sorry I kinda stole your register. I feel like you need this one.”

He looked at me like he wanted to kill me. My confidence sank to the soles of my feet and my stomach flipped. Shit. He hates me.

He responded, “it’s fine. I’m leaving in an hour.”

Somehow we managed to get a conversation going, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was about. Eventually we got on the topic of food. You’d think with me, and him, and working in a grocery store, we would have gotten on the topic sooner. Whatever.

As he was leaving work, he said he was going to Qdoba, which I hated at the time. So I was like, “ew, Qdoba, really? No.”

He shouted at me from like, 20 feet away, “guess I won’t be taking you there, then!”

The customer in line laughed, “have fun on your date!” and drove her cart out of the store.

She must have been from the future.

The second time we ran into each other was July 25th, 2012.

Okay, so I feel like I should explain that I remember these dates because of a car accident I got into on July 25th of 2012, I haven’t been harboring these dates in my mind for 4 years just because of Lover #2. But I digress…

July 25th.

We got put on register right next to each other again. He asked me what kind of music I liked. I’ve always hated that question, but I told him “you know, the stuff you’d hear at Warped Tour. That kinda stuff.”

“Yeah, you seem like the type.” It was my hair. Then he commented on how I kept rolling my shoulders and rubbing my neck. “What’s wrong? You seem weird.”

Thanks, dude, I’m already struggling with your good looks and mysterious wiles, can you not?

“Yeah, I got rear ended on the way to work today.”

I still remember his face, eyes wide and, honestly, the most alive he had looked since I’d met him. “Are you okay?! Why are you here?”

He got sent home maybe 15 minutes later, end of his shift. He told me to follow him on twitter. I said I didn’t have twitter (because I didn’t at the time.) He said, add me on Facebook. I said I don’t know your last name. He yelled it from across the store again.

The cashier next to me gave me knowing looks for the rest of my shift.

I went to my friend’s house later that day for a sleepover and spilled ev-er-y-thing about this guy to her. He ended up adding me on Facebook because I added the wrong person, which was awkward, but we creeped on his profile for a good hour and giggled like 17 year-olds do and talked about how I thought he maybe liked me and I liked him soooo much. It was so perfect.

Then I found his twitter. And I found this tweet. And I am laughing as I type this because what he said was so weird. 

This is what the tweet said (I’m taking 0 creative liberties here, this is actually what it said):

“I have the hots for one of my coworkers”

Like, what? Who says that?

But anyways, I looked at the date of it, and it was like right around when I had first seen him so I was like oh…okay. He probably likes that other cashier that looked at me weird a few days ago.

Turned out that was not the case. That tweet was about me. I made a twitter just to stalk him more effectively not long after. What else would a 17 year-old do?

So we eventually went on a date. We didn’t go to Qdoba, we went to Potbelly’s and it was awesome. Lover #2 quickly got to see how crazy I was when, upon passing an AT&T store, I held up my recently cracked phone screen in the store window and made a pouty puppy dog face and pointed to the phone. I am weird. It’s why we got along. He asked me out in my basement the third time we hung out and when I didn’t give him an answer right away he got nervous and tried to retract the question but I wouldn’t let him because I was about to say yes. It was adorable, really.

Fast forward couple of months, and we were driving home from a Kingsfoil concert, which is one of my favorite bands. You should check them out. Anyways, we were leaving the show and I got to talk to the lead singer for a while out in the parking lot. We are on an “I know your face for sure” basis, because my cousin introduced me to him the first time I went to one of their shows. Anyways, it was pretty late, Lover #2 was dead tired, and we had a long conversation out in the parking lot.

The show was out in Springfield, VA, so my dad wasn’t about to let me drive there. Lover #2 had to drive. So annoying.

When Lover #2 got tired, he got tired. Like all brain function, gone. Done. Nothing left.

He stopped at a green light. Not like oh the light was red and he stopped and then it turned green and it didn’t go. No. Solid green light. Stopped at it.

“Uh…why are you stopping?”

Car behind us lays on their horn.


“Oh! Oh, wow. Okay.”

We made it home alive, thankfully.

Then there was prom.

This is a family favorite story.

So after-prom was at my house because I had a fire pit and lived right down the street from where the prom was, so it was easy to get to and my friends’ parents knew my parents wouldn’t condone underage drinking (not that it was really a concern, but whatever). So something like 15 kids come over, my parents went all out with hoagie platters and s’mores and fruit trays…it was awesome. But I seriously don’t remember much else besides Lover #2 nearly tearing down my entire house.

Lover #2 was 6’4″ (reminder fact!) and probably something like 220-250 lbs. He was a big dude. Like every guy I ever date. I have a type. Massive and can accidentally kill something is my type. Everyone knows this.

I guess he was tired, or excited about all the food my parents bought for this after-gathering of sorts. I don’t really know. But poor Lover #2 took a hoagie, took a bite, and took a huge hit to the face via our sliding glass door. I watched the whole thing happen and fell to the kitchen floor in laughter. My friend Alex’s soda shot out of his nose.

My dad emerged from the basement and my mom emerged from upstairs.


“Is everyone okay?!” – Mom.

*suffocating on the floor* – Me.

*wide eyed stares* – everyone else.

Lover #2 was beet red. My mom put adhesive decorations on the sliding glass door so it wouldn’t happen again. I’m still not sure how the glass didn’t break.

I think Lover #2 suffered a small concussion, because when my dad said he could spend the night on prom night, he declined the offer.

who does that?

Shout out to my wonderful high school sweetheart for letting me write a blog about him!




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