"If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life."
I met Mike when I was a floor manager at a luxury retail chain that shall remain nameless—not so much for their protection, but because I don’t want to admit that I worked in such a competitive, capitalistic, first world, bourgeois, bullshit establishment that contributes to image obsessiveness and class oppression. Actually, I liked the job when I had it—I got all kinds of great clothes for cheap!
When Mike started working at the store, I had a boyfriend. I had been dating him for about a year and just weeks before had told my mother I think that I was dating “the one.” I was 23, was still pretty new to Los Angeles, and that was my second serious relationship. In hindsight, I think I was hoping it was The One just so I could feel like there was some stability in my life. I was happy. Bird, a nickname I gave that boyfriend, was a good man. He picked up dinner and liked word games. He lifted heavy things and he installed shelving in my apartment. What more was I looking for? Mike, on the other hand, was incredibly irritating. Antagonistic and rude, constantly complaining about his job, got along with everyone better than me, he was insubordinate and took a smoke break every 20 minutes. We were bickering and at each other’s throats constantly.
I hated him so much that it was VERY IMPORTANT to me that when I was going to be working with him, I had to look flawless. Perfect hair, perfect make-up, tight skirt, cleavage, heels. Take that! On the mornings when he and I opened the store together, very little would get done. We took our time going to the bank depository, would invariably go get coffee, smoke a cigarette together. He would distract me from doing the paperwork I needed to get done. He would regale me with stories from the night before: he and his friends drinking in a parking lot and fighting and racing and being broken up by the police. The more he talked about it the more jealous I was. And the more I felt left out. I wanted to be invited. Why did he tell me stories about his awesome nights and never invite me to be a part of them? I desperately wanted to be Mike’s friend. I remember I got really mad at him about it one day. I stopped talking to him and when he finally asked me what the hell was wrong with me, I said, “You never invite me to hang out with your friends! I mean, you treat me like I’m your friend. So, are we friends or aren’t we?” He fumbled over himself a little and told me he couldn’t spend time with me because I had a boyfriend and it just didn’t seem right. I was hurt and sad and overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions I didn’t understand. Later that day, he and I were both on the sales floor and when I asked him to do something he refused. We started bickering loudly until my store manager just looked at us both, laughed, and said, “Would you guys just fuck already?”
If you can believe it, it honestly hadn’t occurred to me until precisely that moment that all the bickering and the desire to spend time with him and the teasing and primping was because I was attracted to him. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I must have turned bright red and I’m certain that like a 12 year old I said accidentally too loudly, “Eww! What?!”
If I could put a video montage here, the clips would go something like this: cut to Mike finally inviting me to an afternoon barbeque with some of his friends and we drink and laugh and smoke all afternoon; cut to meeting him and his friends at a coffee shop, smuggling in booze and spiking drinks, staying there until 3am when I knew I had work at 8; cut to me driving home late one night getting a call from Bird and hitting the ignore button; cut to Mike and me in the parking lot of a Carl's Jr. admitting that we like each other but can't do anything about it; cut to me pretending to get too drunk at a bar with Mike and his friends and insisting he let me sleep at his place which was much closer than mine; cut to Mike tucking me into his sister’s bed in the next room and me getting up a little while later and crawling into his. Before you judge him, let me prove that he was a good man and did the right thing. While I had apparently decided that I was ready to cheat on my boyfriend, Mike wasn’t willing to allow me to do that. He got out of bed, sat at his desk and lit a cigarette. He sat there and stared at me. He watched me fall asleep and I guess he never slept at all. The next morning I got up and we went to open the store together. Cut to Mike and I and a mutual friend and coworker drunk at a bar a week later. Cut to the moment being so perfect and the most passionate kiss on the balcony of this bar. Cut to me giving the security guard the finger for trying to tell us the bar was closed while I was clearly in the middle of something. We continued making out in the alley. Cut to me not calling my boyfriend for three or four days. Cut to an awkward Valentine’s dinner with Bird. Cut to breaking up with him, leaving his apartment and heading straight to that coffee shop to embrace my new life.
One night, Mike finally let it slip that the only reason he started working there to begin with was to meet me. He had been working there for 6 months, getting to know me, getting close to me, just waiting for me to break up with Bird. I think he would have waited forever.
I had been in love once before but I was 17 then. Everything felt different and new again with Mike. Our time together was so precious to me. Besides his jokes and comforting demeanor, he had a great love for his friends and a great respect for himself. He knew who he was and he was proud of it—he was the first man I had ever dated who was comfortable with himself. And on top of all of those qualities, I was brimming with lust for him. I couldn’t keep my hands off of him. We would ditch our friends and go make out in the alley or the car. We would have to pull over on the way to dinner. We wouldn’t even make it to dinner. Being with him was like being with the embodiment of your favorite guilty pleasure. He made me feel like the most powerful woman in the world. And even though I tried to resist it, I fell for him.
Our three-year anniversary is coming up soon, March 10th, in fact. Because of everything that’s been going on, and not knowing whether or not we were going to make it to our anniversary, nothing has been planned. I want to give him something special. I want to show him how much he means to me. And I want to let him know that I know he deserves better than what he’s been getting from me lately. For now, I honor him with this song that always makes me think of him. I love you, Mike.
