Rico mentioned that you can read all about how we met, or what my crazy childhood was like, but truthfully, you can't.
It's not on this blog.
It's somewhere else.
But parts of it I can share.
As far as Rico and I go, the story starts like this:
My phone is ringing.
I wish it weren't, because I have a thousand things to do today, and talking to one of the 4 people who actually have my cell phone number is not on the list. My father is in the hospital, my brother is at work, my grandma is in a constant state of worry. Besides, this thing's like a "batphone." The only reasons this thing should ring is if someone's dead, or the Joker's set off laughing gas at the nearest Starbucks.
But still, I pick it up.
It's a private number.
And because I am who I am, I have to know. So I pick it up.
It is him.
I call him the professor - because really, that is the only way I know him. He works with college kids - economics, or business management, or some other snoozefest of a class. I've been avoiding his call for days. I said I would help him - but now am regretting it.
"Hey. How come you always say I can call, but then you never answer the phone?"
"How come you can't take a hint?"
Yes. Those were my first real words to him.
But he laughs and says, "Whoa - you actually have a personality."
"Well, I'm afraid you don't and that's what concerns me." I'm not sure I'm kidding, but he laughs anyway.
We talk for a while - about the classes he teaches, the classes I teach. Turns out, he does indeed have a personality, and he is as passionate about his job, as I am about mine.
It is unfortunate for us that things start out this way - or maybe it is the only way things could have started, because anything else would have been normal or ordinary and neither one of us would stand for that.