A New York Tale: How I Met My Husband

We met cute....

“Could you hand that can of Coke to Bob Trotta?” 

“Who?” 

“That guy over there.” 

And so I did--And through the chain link fence of a concrete ballfield on 34th and 1st, I caught the first glimpse of my future husband.

We worked for the same publishing firm--but I was in editorial and he was in accounting, so our paths had never crossed before that day. And the only reason we did manage to meet was because a friend of mine talked me into joining the company softball team to help get my mind off of the boyfriend who had just broken up with me.

“It will be fun,” she said.

“But I don’t know how to play softball,” I countered.

“No matter--you’ll learn. And you’ll make some new friends.”

And so it went. 

We would meet after work and all take the subway up to Central Park--once a week to practice, and once a week to play against other publishing companies. (Did anyone notice that I would position myself right behind him in the outfield, as he stood in the infield so that I could get a good view of his...”back?”) And after the games we would all usually head to a bar. While everyone was chatting and drinking, I was swooning. (Didn’t anyone else notice the slight crinkle around his eyes when he smiled?)  And then it was just the two of us leaving together. A classic New York City tale. Yuppies working, playing softball (I never really did perfect my softball skills), drinking...and falling in love.

After a while we would meet for lunch and sit on benches that lined the FDR Drive. We were very different--our backgrounds, our experiences, our religions. And so we were cautious. I was cautious. I worried that the differences would outweigh the similarities and eventually tear us apart.  But there was something there --a spark, a genuineness that I had not seen in so many of the others I had dated. And the more time we spent together, the less “different” those differences seemed.

 When I decided to enter what was then called “The Manny Hanny 5K Race in the Park,” I was a little apprehensive. I had never run a real race before, but knowing my partner would be there cheering me on gave me the confidence to do it. A week before the race we found out that I was going to have to go it alone because a business trip had come up.

And so there I was running along when I heard someone calling calling my name from the sidelines. And when I looked up there he was running through the park in a suit of armor, on a white steed...uh, I mean in a pinstripe suit, carrying a briefcase and trench coat. He had grabbed a cab at the airport and literally ran through the park and over to the race. And in that moment, as my pace quickened, and as cliche as it sounds, I knew...he was the one.

And the love’s still growin’

             --Buzzy Linhart


This is part of Blog Hop that my friends at GenFab are joining together on. If you'd like to read how the rest of them met their husbands/partners, click on this link:http://www.emptyhousefullmind.com/how-and-why-i-met-my-husband/