"The One"

My uncle used to tell me to never ask a woman about the men in her past or her past in general because they would possibly lie to you (and you still wouldn't know) or worse... they might tell you something that you would rather not know. For the most part, most of the women I dated usually wound up telling me their life stories after a few dates anyway and long phone calls after midnight into the wee hours of the morning. (Does anybody even do that anymore?)

Now, from reading this blog, you know that I have had a few stories to tell myself. Mostly humorous stories about the comic opera and melodrama that was my life but, nothing that really cut to the surface of who I really was (or am). For years, I was good at that... wearing a mask and hiding who I really was to a lot of women. The reason for that is because I wasn't sure if this woman or that woman was "the one" and until I was sure, I wasn't going to lay it all out there. No, I just wasn't gonna put myself out there like that.

I remember watching "A Bronx Tale" with Robert DeNiro (or Bobby D., as I call him), in which he was telling his son that when he meets the woman who gets in the car and opens his side of the car for him when he's getting in, he will have met one of the "great ones" and that she would be the keeper. I watched that scene and a light bulb went off in my head... yeah, that's right.

My father nor my uncle told me nothing to compare to that but, I had in my mind all along what to look for when one of the "great ones" came along. Now mind you, I've dated bi-curious women, ex-strippers, women who would have been better off stripping or doing something other than stepping into my world, and Beyonce wannabe's, twenty-three years ahead of the actual emergence of the genuine article. (Chew on that for a minute 'cause I just confused the hell out of myself but, I think I know what I meant... high maintenance types.)

My "great one" moment came on the first date I had with Rosalyn... and like a lot of good things in my life, I didn't even know it when I had found it. I met her, made a date to go out with her, and promptly forgot I was supposed to take her out. I don't think I had seen her for about a week after we agreed to go out so, when she called on that Saturday, I wasn't dressed, wasn't prepared, or nothing. My father was over and he took the call. When I came walking in, all sweaty from playing basketball that afternoon he said, "Were you supposed to be going out with somebody tonight?" First, I shook my head "no" and then, it hit me..."Oh Lord, I forgot!" (There's that calling God thing again.) He laughed and said, "She called you... now, that's a keeper. See, anybody else would have let you forget the date and been on your back about how you stood them up, especially since you haven't called her all week." I scratched my head and wondered how he even knew that.

Well, I immediately called her and just told the truth... that I had forgot and I would still take her out but, I was going to be late. She said that it was okay and she would wait. I had to shave, shower, and press my clothes. (Does anybody still do that?) Then, I had to get on the bus (I didn't have a car then) and catch a trolley to her apartment. She was waiting, just like she said, and she didn't give me a hard time about it either. I definitely wasn't used to that.

We went to a very tony Japanese restaurant downtown that I picked and it was way out of my league. (I would be taking my lunch to work all next week, I thought.) It was there that she said something that sealed the deal for me... "Are you sure you can afford this because I can help out with the bill, if you need me to?" Now, this was totally foreign to me... I just wasn't used to this from anyone and that was my "great one" moment.

This happened years before "A Bronx Tale" was even released but, that was when I knew that I had met the woman I was going to marry. It was never going to get any better than this, I reasoned and, for once, I was right. The rest is, as they say, history. A lifetime later and she's still offering to help me pay when we go someplace that I just have to go to but, is way out of my league.

Today, people need to know your credit score. (I mean come on, do you really? If you're on the verge of bankruptcy, I might want to know that but, I don't really need to know your credit score.) They also need to know if you have or ever had a sexually transmitted disease (now, that is important). They even need to know if you've had any stalkers or other crazy men/women in your life (again, that is important) before they can even think about having that "great one" moment... when the person you're dating becomes something more and evolves into... the one.

While all of that is very important in a new millennium kind of way, hopeless romantic that I am, I would still be looking for that part of a person's soul, a part of that person's personality that could gel with mine in that unexplainable moment that you only know when it's happening. Some people call it magic. I do know this... credit scores, stalkers, and STDs have little or nothing to do with it.

(This is for Don, one of the baddest bloggers in the game, who's missing right now. If you're out there somewhere, holla back at a brother 'cause you would've written this better!)