In praise of Spooney

As of today, Spooney and I have been together five years. I KNOW. I can hardly believe it myself.

We were both about 6 months out of 10 year relationships when we met on the interwebs. I had been on numerous bad dates by then so I was a little weary of the whole dating thing, but I agreed to meet Spooney for a drink because he was funny, and he had a nice deep voice.

The bar he suggested as “between his place and mine” was actually much closer to my place, which was sweet. A lot of people in LA have bastard commutes, and so spend much of their personal lives trying never to leave their neighborhoods. People like that are always suggesting plays, restaurants, and clubs that just happen to be down the street from where they live. One guy I met online who wanted to meet for a movie would only suggest films playing at the Beverly Center, which was 4 blocks from his house. I knew at the time that he was doing that thing, and yet I met him anyway. He turned out to be a selfish jerk. What a surprise.

Anyhoo, I was on the 101N on the way to the bar to meet Spooney when I noticed that the 101S was jammed. Right as I got onto my exit ramp, I saw a huge accident with emergency vehicles and all lanes closed. Just then I realized that Spooney had to be traveling on the 101S to get from his place to the bar. He would be late. Very late, judging by the traffic. And seeing as how we’d just met, I hadn’t given him my cell phone number yet. Fucking great.

I settled into a booth at the bar and ordered a beer. After about 5 minutes, the bar phone rang. For some reason, I knew it was him. I was absolutely certain it was him. The waitress picked up the phone, listened, and then looked around the bar. She stopped when she got to me and said, “Are you Vikki?”

It was him. He called information to get the number for the bar. Then he called the bar to tell me he was going to be late. And this was before iPhones, remember, so doing that entailed dialing, and talking to people, and dialing some more. It required effort. It’s not like now when your phone just does all that for you if you ask it to.

And this from someone living in LA, a city infamous for its lax manners. I was so impressed that I decided to wait for him. Luckily, he was close to his exit, and I only had to wait twenty minutes. And then we spent four hours talking. We almost closed the dang bar.

Here are some things I remember:

He totally had the Boston accent thing going on. Adorable.

He laughed pretty hard when I imitated my mother. Listen gals, what better signal do you want that a guy gets you, than having him understand why your mother is unintentionally hilarious?

He told funny stories about growing up in a small town. I could so relate!

He complimented my shoes. I know. It’s like someone had given him a manual on how to get to me.

And then at the end of the evening, he walked me to my car. He didn’t try to kiss me goodnight, but he looked like he wanted to for a hard second or two before he turned away. Which was, at the time, pretty much exactly what I wanted.

And Spooney continues to provide me with mostly exactly what I want. If pressed, I will admit that once in while, the gear talk gets a little dull, but hey, we all have our obsessions. I understand that my obsession with efficiency and organization is way tedious sometimes. And we do everything together, which is great. He’s the best companion I’ve ever had, and you know, that’s a really underrated thing. I really can’t say enough about how wonderful that is.

Well, I’ve gotten mushy enough, and I promise I won’t be pulling out the sticky valentines for every anniversary. It’s just that 5 years is a long time in Vikkitikkitavi years. I’m not easy to please, frequently, and I…I can be a tough bitch, and judgmental - girl, you don’t even know. Judgmental is the bear with which I wrestle, for sure. But here’s one good thing about me: I will walk through fire for the man I love. And Spooney, that’s you, baby.