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Archive for the ‘Dating’ Category

I’d say I’m the second love of Patrick’s life — his car is his first.

On one of our first dates, we were out for a drive in his little blue Subaru WRX. It’s a manual, which is quite a trend among youngsters who learned to drive in the Detroit-metropolitan area. We were at a stop sign, listening to loud music and having a good time when the car started shaking and then turned off.

He had stalled.

Pointing a stern finger at me and trying hard to keep a straight face, he said, “Don’t EVER tell ANYONE about this!”

And I never did.

Whitney

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Spark

Our first date was in Patrick’s hometown of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Living only one hour apart, our first summer was spent frivolously guzzling gas as we made daily commutes one way or the other.

I had been in Michigan for about a week when Patrick was able to finally return home. His golf schedule required that he put his final exams on hold while he competed in the MAC Championship tournament. Having finished my finals, I eagerly returned home and was happy and excited about the over-the-phone relationship I was developing with Patrick.

When I pulled up to his house for the first time, I remember thinking how beautiful it was. Not just the house — which is an old, large colonial-style home — but all of the things surrounding it. From the large trees in the yard to the quiet, peacefulness of the neighborhood, it was easy to understand why he felt so comfortable and happy there. The colors, the overhanging trees, the birds, it was all so beautiful.

Patrick came running down the yard toward my car, and I remember thinking that my mind hadn’t stored an accurate picture of Patrick’s face. His smile was contagious, and he gave me a big hug — a great way to start the day.

We went walking around all over Ann Arbor. We saw the U of M campus, went to (the original) Borders, ate some lunch at Potbelly’s and found ourselves playing all kinds of games at Pinball Pete’s, an arcade Patrick’s been frequenting since his childhood. It’s ok that he kicked my butt in air hockey. I don’t hold a grudge. Ok, fine, I absolutely do.

One of the “games” Patrick insisted on playing was the Adams Family electrocution game. And it’s exactly what it sounds like. “Do you like pain?” Patrick had asked me. I laughed it off, not realizing the point of the game was to tightly squeeze a metal knob and withstand the pain as long as possible. This wasn’t like any arcade games I’d ever played.

We combined our tickets to get a large orange bouncy ball, a treasure we still have, and will probably have forever because I have the crazy hoarding instincts of a pack rat.

Whitney

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