A glorious whirlwind romance is something one comes across very few times in ones life. I was lucky enough to stumble upon it twice.
The first time, it had been with a professor. A man who looked about as young as a high school senior, but with eyes as wise as a poet long gone. I suppose that's what he was to me in the beginning, even, long gone. His name was John Smith. Such an ambiguous name, and I'd told him so. Shortly before our first date.
It was the early fall of 1949 when I met him. I'd only just gotten a promotion at work, I was a journalist, and I was dying for a chance to write something serious. I had this enormous satchel, stuffed full of papers and pens and notebooks that I'd buy before the last was finished. I dragged that bag around from door to door, office to office for my new piece. It was about a school, a university in town that had been under some scrutiny. It was rumored that the Dean had paid off my boss to get a positive story in the paper, and that was my job. I went from the biology department to the humanities department, to the art department and back, looking for somebody who would answer just a few simple questions about their job. No luck with those old geezers, for all of the professors I'd encountered were certainly not young anymore, not by my standards. The physics department went a little differently, however, because that's where I met him.
I stumbled into his lecture hall, lugging my poor satchel behind me (this was an impressive feat all together, because I'm about as tall as, well, a dwarf. 5 feet, two inches. May as well be a Hobbit, but without the massive feet). He'd been staring down at his pupils papers, like a teacher may very well do, and didn't care for my presence.
"Whoever it is, my tutor duties aren't today, and I'm in a bit of a hurry."
At first I turned away, berating myself for not knocking first, but he seemed likable if only he'd just put the papers down for a hot minute. Like I've said, John looked very young. Appearing only twenty five, but in actuality was older than I was. Thirty seven. Not so old, but not so young either. His dark hair fell lazily over his face, delicate eyebrows serving no purpose over his watery eyes. I'd still been a good distance away at the time however, and I wouldn't come to notice that until later.
"Sorry, I was just wondering if I could-" He'd run a hair through the floppy locks, making me stammer and curse under my breath. "Nevermind, you're busy. I'll go, but you don't happen to know where a girl could find a professor who would actually want to talk to me for a while, do you? I'm writing an article for the city paper about the college. It's a promotional thing, and so far everyone's been too busy." In retrospect, it was actually kind of forward. My surprise later when he asked me out probably wasn't warranted, but what did I care? I was twenty three years old, and it was the forties. I could live a little.
Now, John knew he was a little thick, but that wasn't anything to be worried about. I found it charming. The way he looked up from his papers, those beautiful eyes of his peering at me from behind his hair. Then he managed to drop the pile of ungraded, and some surprisingly unstapled, essays from the desk. I laughed, picking up the one essay that had falled at my feet.
Antimatter and the Higgs Particle. Whatever it meant I was clueless too, so I simply handed it back to him with a smile gracing my face. As soon as I'd done so, the questions came. One after another it almost seemed like he was the journalist, rather than I. He was insterested, and of course, I was too. It was only natural that we'd spent more time flirting over coffee and imported Jammy Dodgers than going through the motions of a promotional interview.
The coffee date had started with a slight hitch. John had been a usual at the Bloor Door Café, the owner Wilfred was actually putting him up in the little apartment above the shop. It was all very quaint. The server, Beth as I came to call her, was very friendly with him. Everytime he'd come in for his usual coffee and Jammy Dodger combo they'd flirt harmlessly. She was alway a queen, or a princess, and he just her humble manservant - or was it prince? Both maybe. But it was nothing. Beth was engaged to the busboy, Sam, as John took pride in reminding me after I'd expressed my jealousy.
"Are you two together?" I'd asked after her royal highness had gone.
John knit his eyebrows together, obviously wanting to deny it but he was going to fish. See if I were actually as single as my hand read, test the waters. So he stayed silent for a bit, contemplating his answer before looking me in the eyes.
"Would it bother you if we were?"
It was innocent, yet I blushed. He wanted an honest answer, this I knew extremely well, but now I just wanted to crawl away and hide forever. I'd never been a very forward flirt, except with Nina. I was going through a fase.
"I-" my stammering must have amused him then, as I was embarrassed to have even asked the question. So when Beth came back with the drinks (a coffee with cream for me, and an earl grey for him) and the Dodgers, I stole one from his plate. Snatching it up and taking a bit. "Yes it would," I declared, turning my head up, mock haughtily.
John grinned, picking up a cookie of his own and leaning close to me. "Well, Miss Oswin," I could tell he was fishing again. "Beth is engaged to one of the busboys here at the café. I'm a professor, not a busboy, although I find your infatuation quite… endearing."
I scoffed, finishing off my cookie and chewing with another 'offended' air, taking a sip of my coffee when I'd finished.
"For your information, Professor Smith, I am not infatuated, just merely attracted… to you." John's eyes went wide, only slightly but I noticed nonetheless, before chuckling softly.
"Oh no- I just, you know you never think it's going to happen but then you walk in and-" He paused, "I'm making a complete idiot out of myself, aren't I?"
I grinned. "None more than usual." The porcelain handle of my coffee cup felt hot and clammy to my touch. It might have just been the coffee, but I like to think it was nerves, for I realized my mistake on seconds after I'd said it. "Oh! I mean, I'd expect. None more than usual I'd expect." A sheepish grin crossed my face. "I'm sorry, now I'm being the idiotic one, aren't I? I don't know.."
"Would you go out with me?"
It was blunt, to the point, and his cheeks were the color of my ruby lips, but it was so him. The nervous energy came off him as waves, melting into mine as he traced the rim of his mug with his long fingers. I elected to stare down at my cup as well, weighing the options I knew would come to a loud, resounding YES in the end.
"Well, I'd love to."
John does a bit of a double take before looking at me, taking in my excited eyes and bright smile, then a grin forms on his face.