How we first met (Erin and Michael) \tI was giving a talk at a church program on Good Friday on a solemn topic: my grief over my father’s death and how the story of Jesus’ final words on the cross helped me get through it and move into a more spiritual relationship with my dad. I was the last of 7 speakers during the service. Erin, who also went to my church but had never met me, was spending the day with her mom in the City. They came to the church for the “Seven Last Words” service at which I spoke, but they were very late and had to sit behind a big pillar, unable to see me at the pulpit but able to hear my talk. As I told my story, Erin was intrigued by how down-to-earth my reflections were, and it resonated with her own feelings and experience of losing her dad years previously. She presumed I was a priest. She later learned that I was a layperson on staff at the church, because she saw my bulletin announcements for volunteers to help me with some church events.
\tErin, a former night nurse for many years, was tired of “community service” dates with guys her friends had set her up with but with whom she didn’t have much of a connection or shared beliefs. After hearing from a church mom who knew me that I was new to the City and recently single, Erin hatched her “man-plan,” as she and her friends called it. She called my office to volunteer for a summer gardening event with church families. She was surprised at how I graciously introduced her to the other families and kids. She volunteered the following week to help with a Sunday school activity. Little did I know that she was scoping me out. I was simply interested in recruiting her to be a Sunday school teacher. She seemed incredibly serious-faced to me.
\tLater in the month, I bumped into Erin around church and she off-handedly told me that she had been asked to share with the social justice club her stories and pictures from her Spring nursing trip to Haiti after the earthquake. I was impressed that she had gone to Haiti all by herself, and so I made a mental plan to go to her talk. Her strategy was that I would come to her talk, but she didn’t want to be too obvious, so she didn’t directly invite me. I showed up late, and saw that she had an entourage of friends supporting her at the event. After her talk, I lingered around and sort of “helped” put away the chairs. Her friends hovered over her. As I was about to leave, one of her friends came to me and invited me to join them at a nearby drinking establishment on Fillmore. I said ok, expecting another awkward outing with people I didn’t know. But they were planning on me coming, so they prepared to investigate who I was and if I was decent for their friend, Erin. I bought the first round of drinks for Erin and her four girlfriends, and that was smart. As we moved to the table to sit, I sat next to Erin but her friend Kim sat in front of me and threw question after question my way for 15 minutes straight. When she was done, she got up and moved to the other end of the table, as all the other friends slid down. So now I had another of Erin’s friends sitting in front of me, grilling me with more questions about my life and what I liked to do in the City. When I said that I went to the Cat Club for 80s dancing, they were flabbergasted because that was one of their favorite things to do. Erin and I sat next to each other for the next hour and a half, but probably said a total of 10 words to each other, as her friends continued to probe me. At the end of the evening, Erin quasi-invited me to her birthday party a couple weeks later. I walked her back to her car at the church, asked for her number so that I could “contact her about future volunteer opportunities.” Awkwardness all around.
\tA week later, I had come to my deadline of recruiting new volunteers for the year. Erin would have been a great volunteer, but I also wanted to ask her out on a date, and I was tired of going on quasi-dates with volunteers that I supervised. So, I put off calling her until 9pm. I decided to do something for myself for a change. I called her and left a voicemail, asking her out to drinks at a bar. She left a voicemail the next night, saying yes.
\tWe met on Clement St. at a bar called “The Bitter End,” (what a name for a first date). I was five minutes late, and she had been waiting for 15 minutes, but she didn’t tell me that. We got into some lively conversation. Erin talks with her hands, like an Italian, and in one exchange she knocked over my pint of beer, spilling it all over my crotch. When she did that, her friend, the irish bartender, who was pulling for her to make a good impression, gave her the stink eye. I didn’t make a big deal out of it. The night ended nicely, but she couldn’t tell if I liked her or not. I wasn’t sure yet either, since my feelings were still kind of confused after a big breakup 6 months previous.
\tA week later, I joined her at a bar for her birthday party. I was there on time, and she didn’t show up for another 15 minutes. Her friends didn’t come for another 30 minutes. We had a great time, and she was relieved that I was a church person who could have a good time. Several Guinnesses later, we closed the bar after I sang and played “Happy Birthday” on the piano in the back, plus really bad renditions of Bill Joel songs and some improvised tunes. Happy and drunk as skunks, I walked her back to my place, but I was not going to let our first kiss be while we were drunk, much less drunk at my place. I called her a taxi. She wondered what was wrong with me.
\tThe next day, she called me to go on a hike, if I was free. I told her I could take half of the day off, but I had work to do later. We went to the Marin Headlands and the Pelican Inn for a lovely day. A half-day stretched to a full one. Back at her place that evening, I barely, just barely, overcame my shyness to kiss her. We kissed, and haven’t stopped since. We were engaged a little over a year later, and have now been married a year and a half. I didn’t learn about Erin’s “man-plan” until at her bridesmaids’ toasts at our rehearsal dinner.