April 24th, 1982
Well, if it’s romance and excitement you want…
Wednesday morning I was having a cup of coffee in a coffee shop on Fifth Avenue, passing time before my 9:00 am appointment at the holistic center. A very handsome man entered and our eyes caught immediately. A nice way to start the day. He got coffee in the carry-out line and left. I stood behind him at the cashier. He waited for me on the sidewalk. Suit, trench coat— very business man image. He said hello— his name was Stephen— he gave me his business card and asked me to call him. A thrill in the middle of my emotional starvation. I called him that night and we had a wonderful chat. He seems bright and kind. We like each other on the phone. We arrange a date. I’m busy the next couple of nights. He’s planning to spend a long weekend at his home in Connecticut. We’re anxious to see each other— and he suggests cutting his weekend short and returning Sunday night to see me. Romance. The scorecard is perfect.
A Home In Connecticut
Tonight, he telephoned to say it was such a lovely weekend in the country and to suggest I take the train there tomorrow to spend the day with him. He’ll drive me back into the city tomorrow night.
He seems perfect. My school girl heart pounds inside my chest. I am in a teenage turmoil. And, dear reader, we all recall my history of phobic reaction to leaving the city— any city— and to car trips— and car trips.
So tonight I fret. What if I don’t like him? What if he doesn’t like me? Didn’t he see how fat I am? He’s going to take one look at me without a shirt and feel revolted. What if he’s a drunk— or a druggie—
What you are doing is taking a 30-minute train trip to spend an afternoon with a man who just may turn out to be wonderful. If it works out fine— if not— you are more than able to take care of yourself— you’re certainly not stranded— or in danger.
Go forth boldly.
Take risks in sobriety.
Dare to pursue happiness.