Julie & The Tortellini

It was interesting meeting Julie for the first time because I already knew her.  We went to the same school for a brief time and I knew who she was.  I thought she was very pretty, but our activities and friends never put us close enough to associate.  It’s safe to say that when my friend hung up the phone and said “Julie’s comin’ through…” I was a little nervous.

Julie was an athletically built girl; curvy yet fit.  She had black hair past her shoulders, a scar cutting through her right eyebrow which hovered above her big, beautiful, blue eyes.  And a fantastically full lower lip.  She was gorgeous.

The car door shut and Julie joined my friend and I on my front porch, we were awaiting her arrival.  The greetings between us superseded the awkward and she progressed right into the small dramas of her day at work.  We went inside and I fixed us all a drink.

Over the next few hours we all hung out, with no expectations.  Jokes were made, people were picked on and the fact that we all should have known each other better than we did was completely ignored.  No one cared.  Then someone got hungry.

The three of us packed into my car and headed to the convenient store open at the hour to fulfill the need not to be hungry anymore.  I didn’t find anything that looked appetizing, but Julie and Eric barreled about, grabbing one item after another, replacing the one in hand with one that drew the next appeal.  I grew antsy.  I found the two of them staring at beverages.  Julie shoved bottle of water in my face whose description, drawing inference to a famous rapper of the time, got a laugh out of all three of us

“If you want,” I interrupted, “I got an idea for some bangin’ munchies.  But we’re not gonna find it here. “ 

“Oh yeah, what?” Julie asked, intriguingly.

“It’s a recipe I have for tortellini.” I replied.  Julie’s intrigue grew. 

She put her bag of chips down on the first shelf she could find and excitedly but confidently said “let’s go.” 

So the three of us were now wandering the aisles of the all night supermarket.  I had a basket and lead the way. Julie watched my shopping with anticipation as the contents would make up the food she would soon eat.  And Eric, well Eric was looking for a bathroom.  (Whether or not he found one is debatable, but after a while he no longer searched.)

Back at my apartment Eric occupied himself with contraband, Julie occupied us with friendly chatter and I chopped garlic.  Banter went back and forth between Julie and I; light hearted banter about my cooking, the shape of my apartment.  It was a very jovial mood.  The meal, one of my favorites, won them over, and the prosciutto was a big success.  Especially with Julie because as Eric put it in the store, “Be careful with prosciutto, you’re cooking for an Italian girl.”  We ate and watched TV.

The night drew to an end, partly because Eric was asleep, partly because I was getting there, and partly because it was morning.  Julie announced her departure and I walked her out.  I was incredibly attracted to Julie and got the feeling that she felt the same.  On our way out she thanked me again for cooking and reiterated how nice it was of me.  I made an offer to her. 

“You should let me cook for you again sometime.” I said.

“I’d like that.” She replied with a smile.  The only problem, as she drove off, was that she didn’t have my phone number nor I hers.  But I knew someone who did… I couldn’t ask Eric for her number because I think he held out hopes that Julie would be interested in him.  If he did, he didn’t show it, to me or her.  Either way, I just couldn’t ask him.  I could however open his mobile phone as he slept and take it… which I did.

The next day (later on that day) all I could think about was Julie.  She literally worked her way into every aspect of my day by occupying my brain.  I asked some friends, a couple, if it was too soon or too much to call the next day.  The man emphatically said yes and the woman said that it all depends on the girl.  I thought that was the perfect answer.  I felt like talking to Julie, and I felt like she wanted me to call her, so on my way home I did.

Julie didn’t answer initially but called me back within minutes.  We chatted for a bit then decided to get together when she got off work that night.  I was ecstatic.  She began to ramble about what we should do, where to meet, what to drink and things when I cut her off and said “Why don’t we just talk about it when I get there?”

A silent pause came over the phone and surprisingly Julie asked “You’re coming here?”

“If that’s ok?” I added.

“Sure.”

When I got there the smile on Julie’s face was as big as mine.  I think they call it ‘ear to ear.’ Julie got me a drink and I waited off by myself.  We threw glances at each other of different meanings as she passed by me waiting tables.  When we got a chance to talk we both admitted that we’d been thinking about one another all day, and that we’d both been caught by someone else, in a smile.

Julie and I dated for a few weeks, got to the point where we were calling each other ‘boyfriend and girlfriend,’ and were, for the briefest of moments, head over heels in love.  But it did not work out.  Neither of us was ready for what the other had to offer so we went our separate ways.

I saw Julie make a post a few years later on a social network, mutual friend page and requested a connection.  It was denied.  I didn’t let that bother me, but a few months later when the same thing happened I sent another request, this time with a message…

“I understand if you don’t want to be ‘friends’ with me but know this… I think about you from time to time.”

She accepted this request and has since grown into one of my favorite connections.  We interact on a personal level and it is always in good fun, even at times one on one.  Julie has proved my theory that I adopted from a quote (the name of the movie or TV show eludes me),

“When you truly love someone, a part of you always will.”

p.s. On the first night we hung out alone after her work, Julie shocked me, hours, days, even weeks before I expected it… she kissed me.  It was an electric kiss that has scarred me to this day.  It is a scar that I brag about.  I offer a quote from a letter I wrote to Julie on her birthday, “I am proud to have, at one point, had you call me your boyfriend.”  Julie… I’m still proud.