A Single Summer
I would bet that most women when confronted with the phrase “Summer Lovin’” would finish it by singing “had me a bla-ast”. When forcing myself to conjure another memory spurred by those words I think of me on the back of a Vespa with my arms around a long-time crush of mine, my skirt flapping around my thighs as the cold, early-morning air whipped up my legs. Technically it was Spring because summer mornings in Kansas are not cold. But the image makes me think of the onset of summer and the beginning of crossing those long-time crushes off my “to do” list.
I broke up with my boyfriend of over 2 years right around college graduation. I didn’t purposely wait until then to do it, but it happened. I hadn’t been single for a long time and had no plans of seeking another relationship. Little did I know I’d meet my future husband in November, but in the meantime – between May and November – I lived life. No regrets.
I rebounded immediately and that was short lived. For some reason I cried when I saw him with another girl, even though I knew I didn’t really like him that much. Weird. He was a carpenter and smelled like sawdust. I loved that.
My summer lovin memory involves me on the back of a guy’s Vespa.
This guy – oh, so handsome with his shaved head – was taking me home after I crashed in his tent at a field party the night before. I had dressed in a flippy skirt because of a swing concert at the Bottleneck before the party. I danced my tail off with my sister and dance partner, and then hit the skinheads’ party (all SHARPs, I assure you) afterwards in great spirits. There was beer! There was a bonfire! There was the guy on whom I had had a crush for years! Mission accepted. As Seinfeld’s Elaine would say, yadda yadda yadda. The action was pretty uneventful, but when you follow a drunk guy into a tent, your expectations are set accordingly. Mission accomplished. I was giddy.
When we awoke at the crack of dawn, my ride had vanished. So this guy, me and the Vespa, whirred down the chilly streets of Lawrence on the way to my home. I remember hating being so cold but loving this movie-moment with my arms wrapped tightly around his chest. My skin was cold but my body our bodies were warm. I wondered if others on the main drag were wondering why I was dressed in a short skirt on the back of a Vespa on this cold morning. Picture It’s a Wonderful Life moment except instead of Jimmy Stewart running through snowy streets, waving his arms and joyfully yelling “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas Everyone!”, I felt like waving an arm to passers-by and gleefully extolling my accomplishments. “I did it! I did it! Look who I’m with! After all these years!” Side note to the reader: I noticed this quiet, shy guy Freshman year and this party was after our graduation. I always went for the quiet ones.
The summer allowed for one more big-crush opportunity. No yadda yadda about this one; we played until the sun came up. I will never forget him emerging shirtless from my bedroom – wo-hoooo you should have seen his abs! He was a thin, almost lanky, guy whose hours in the gym were seemingly all focused on his mid-section. I had my eyes on him since I was a highschooler, for God’s sakes. Four and a half years of college later, scratch him off my wish list!
What a great summer. When I met my future husband in November, I told him I didn’t want to be in a relationship. I was having too much fun and enjoying life the way it was. A week later we were dating. Next February it will be 10 years of marriage. I’m glad he doesn’t read my blog.