Today was the anniversary of Keen and my first date. Eighteen years ago we met at work – it was a
Safeway and the fluorescent lights were electrifying to young love. I was a bagger and he was a produce
clerk. He taught me how to mop. And after doing the requisite dancing around
a few months of being “just friends”, we finally submitted to our mutual
attraction by making out on the hood of his car after just viewing the hit
movie, “Look Who’s Talking.” (Not that Keen
was trying to recreate a Whitesnake moment by hoisting me up there. I think it was more easy access. I’m short.) Yes, we were quite the late 80s cliché.

Though just for the record, let it be known… I asked him out.

Wait, was that an 80s cliché,
too? Raybans

OK, technically we started dating
in 1990, but we met in ‘89. And everyone
was still wearing brightly
colored geometric patterns all over their clothes. And Keen was still wearing wrap-around
Ray-Bans in the oh so cool neon colors. AND he drove a Mustang, convertible even. (Yeah, I know! Pretty shocking I – weirdo alternagirl – went
out with such a frat boy, huh?) That
seems pretty 80s to me.

Anyhoo. In two more
years we’ll be able to celebrate the 100th anniversary of our house, and 20 years
since making out on that car. That first
date kind of cracks me up.

But in a good way.

Love you babe!

     – that weirdgirl
(that you dated despite what your friends said)