Two Italian Sailors and a Tuna Melt; a Love Story.

I have on occasion been told by my friends that I look at my husband with “Nancy Reagan eyes”. You know the look; the look she gave Ronnie in practically every picture. Apparently I do that too.

While some cynics might think this is staged or fake, I assure you that in my case it is not. How could I not look at him this way? This is the man who freed my mind, tempered my tempestuous heart, fathered my children and has given me twenty years of adventure.

We have had a really wonderful life together so far, but it almost didn’t happen. This is the story of how we first met.

Amsterdam, the Spring of 1999, I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar in a lunchroom on the floating flower market. Most of our customers were tourists visiting the market and office workers from the upper floors of the building. I noticed a new, quiet young man coming in for lunch every day. He ordered a toasted ham-and-cheese sandwich and a coke, every day. I was not looking to date anyone at that time; I was busy with my studies and work, but there was something about this fella that sparked my interest. I may have taken extra time to clear the tables near him, hoping he would notice me. He did not.

One day I decided to try and chat him up. What to say though? I had to find a way to start a conversation that seemed natural coming from a waitress. “I have noticed you order the same thing every day. Can I perhaps recommend something new? How about the tuna melt?” He liked the tuna melt, and this broke the ice enough that we did talk a bit more when he came in. I was really hoping he would catch the hint that I fancied him. I was throwing so many signals out there, they could see them in China. Heck, NASA probably picked them up in outer space. Still, John did not.

One day John was seated on the terrace outside. Two Italian sailors came up to me and handed me an invitation to a party on their ship which was docked at the harbor.

After they left, I looked back at John as if to say: “See, bro, THAT is how you do it!” Still nothing.

I ended up not going to the party on the ship, because I could not find anyone to go with me, and boarding a ship full of seamen by myself did not seem like the smartest thing to do. I did decide to take matters into my own hands at that point though. I was a smart, confident, 20th century woman. Heck, it was almost the 21st century! I would ask John out. The next day, he came in for lunch with a large group of his coworkers. He always asked for a receipt, so I wrote my phone number on the back of it. When it was time to settle up, I tried handing him the receipt.

“No thanks, I don’t need that,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” I replied.

“No, I don’t!” (he seemed a bit irritated with me at this point).

“You REALLY DO need THIS receipt.”

I shoved the receipt in his hands. With a puzzled look on his face, he stared at the piece of paper, turned it over and that is when everyone at the table saw the phone number, and they all laughed. I did not think he would call me. But he did.

For our first date we went on a canal boat ride and had dinner at a hole-in-the-wall Indonesian restaurant that served Cendol, my favorite drink. I was so nervous, I spilled my Cendol. We had a really nice time and had our picture taken by one of those guys who would wander around with a polaroid camera to sell snapshots of people out on the town. I still have that picture.

I thought we really hit it off, but John never called me back after our date. I was quite sad about it at first. Then I was a little angry. No one puts Baby in the corner, and no one ghosts Sharon without at least an explanation! I’m still not entirely sure why John didn’t call back. I do know that if I hadn’t been so tenacious, we would never have gotten together.

We married two years later in the He Hua temple in Amsterdam’s Chinatown. We were the first couple to be married there, and the Taiwanese Buddhist nuns hitched us for 300 lifetimes. There is no “until death do us part” here.

I love hearing how people met. Feel free to share your story in comments. In this jaded, cynical world, I still believe in love that lasts. It might take a smidge of perseverance though; just look at my story!

Happy Valentine’s Day!