If you end up in amazing discussions with him even in large group settings, he finds an excuse to give you his phone number right away, and he seems to ignore your personal space bubble (in a good way), but he never mentions the fact that he has a girlfriend… RUN!
After graduating from college I decided to take a break before diving head-long into graduate school. My initial plan was to spend a year in England as a Nanny, but as it turned out I found it impossible to get a visa even if I promised that I wouldn’t let the family pay me… I guess they didn’t believe me. However, I still felt the need to get away from California (where I had spent the first 22 years of my life) and experience something else for a change. This led me to pursue Nanny jobs within the United States, which eventually landed me in Florida.
I found a church there that I liked a lot, but they lacked one important thing: people my age. The only church members in their twenties were the pastor’s three daughters, Libby, Rachel, and Jessica, whom I immediately befriended. In order to supplement our social circle, we began regularly attending a college and career group at a mega church in a nearby city. My first event with this group was a Halloween party hosted by four of the guys.
Libby, Rachel, and I drove up to a large apartment complex in their family mini van with some apprehension. Rachel wasn’t dressed for the occasion and I had spent half of the ride plotting whether or not I should replace my Hawaiian skirt with jeans. In jeans I could say I was a… my mind was blank. It may have been Halloween, but costumes had already been worn at parties the previous weekend. This seemed more like an obligatory party to commemorate the actual holiday and it was tough to say how festive this unknown group of people would be. I gave in and changed into jeans, explaining to Libby and Rachel that in a group of strangers I’d rather be the person without a costume rather than the only one dressed up in a room full of street clothes.
Once inside the apartment, I found a seat on the couch and hardly took notice of Drummer, dressed as Waldo, as he passed in and out of the room several times to change the music on the stereo. After engaging in conversation with a couple people, and allowing Libby to introduce me to a bunch more, I settled into a new seat on the floor near Drummer. At first I sat observing the room and its current inhabitants, and eventually found myself interested in the conversation Drummer was having.
At some point I made a comment to Drummer, which inadvertently turned his interest in the conversation toward me. From what I recall, our topics were largely unremarkable that night, but I found him remarkable. And despite the fact that I already had my eye on Drummer, it was the event of the bonfire that continued to fuel my perception long after the fire was out.
For our next group event, we all headed out to Joe’s house where we could light a fire in a large tin trash bin. But since November in Florida is like summer, even after the sun went down, we had little desire to stand closer than 6 feet to the fire. Instead we made a large perimeter of ten or twenty people chatting and munching and stoking the fire.
I spent at least an hour watching Drummer make his rounds as he talked with the people around the fire, hoping he would find his way over to me. Either my impatience or my extroversion got the better of me because when Drummer walked passed me without a word, I snatched the opportunity to ask about the writing on his t-shirt. He stopped, turned back toward me, and after explaining the words, immediately took a seat on the cooler situated next to my chair.
I’m sure we covered the normal things like, “I’m from California and I’m here to be a live-in nanny…” but the part of our conversation that I remember is when he told me his life story and all about the most meaning events of his life. He had been the drummer in a band. They had made it big and received raves at Ozzfest. He told me that as he toured and engaged in all crazy touring activities associated with “drugs, sex, and rock’n’roll,” he would come home to visit his mom and found himself very uncomfortable attending church services with her. But as time progressed he grew more comfortable at the church services and less comfortable on tour with the band. Eventually, he decided that he needed to leave the band, returning home to Florida.
As we talked about our similar views of God, the newness of his excitement and desire for knowledge on the subject was intoxicating to me. I thought of a book that related to a discussion we were having, but I couldn’t remember the title or the author. Drummer ensured me that he would love to know what it was, so I should e-mail it to him. He pulled his business card out of his wallet, obviously proud to have a business card, and then mentioned something about giving me his personal e-mail address, too. Since he had already handed me his card, he pulled out a pen and held out his hand for the card while I held out my hand for the pen. There was an awkward moment where both of us tried to let the other person do what they wanted. It ended when I gave in and handed him the card.
In the inconsistent light of the bonfire, Drummer wrote on the back of his business card for me. He seemed to finish because he began to hand it back to me, but only for a moment. He then pulled it back and continued to write. This time he really had finished and placed it in my hand to stay. One glance at the back of the card told me that he had not only written his e-mail address but also his phone number. Well, color me flattered! I could have flown to the moon.
Thanksgiving came soon after the bonfire, and I shared the meal with the family where I lived and then left to spend my week off at Libby’s house. Her family, being from Canada, had already celebrated their Thanksgiving, so her parents took this opportunity to go on vacation, and the girls and I decided to make our own Thanksgiving meal for our friends. We figured that by Sunday afternoon everyone would have fulfilled familial obligations and would be free to joins us for a Thanksgiving meal and a pool party (Florida being one of the only places where this combination actually works).
We made a million last minute phone calls to invite people, and I took that opportunity to use the phone number that had been so intentionally presented to me. Unfortunately, the ringing of the telephone was terminated by a recorded voice only. I left the least awkward message I could muster and returned to our preparations while a smile remained plastered on my face. Eventually, one of us was able to make contact with his roommate, Aaron, and he informed us that Drummer would be unavailable.
Early in the afternoon, before the guests were to arrive, I used the other means of contact he had given me and sent Drummer this e-mail:
Hey [Drummer]-
I searched for the book, but I can't for the life of me remember the author's name or a telling keyword from the title... but its sitting on my shelf at home in California. So, when I go home for Christmas I'll bring it back for you if I haven't figured out the name by then.
I'm bummed you won't be able to come to dinner with us at the girl's house tonight... (at least that's what Aaron said). Hope to see you again soon.
Michal
P.S. My cell # is (234) 555-6789.
To my very great surprise, just an hour before our dinner, I received a call on my cell phone from Drummer. I took a deep breath and attempted to detach my excitement from my vocal chords. Drummer seemed grateful for having been invited and apologetic for being unable to attend. And though his phone call had momentarily given me hope that I might get to see him after all, I was satisfied with this interaction and proceeded with the evening feeling content.
Later that week, Libby, Rachel and I got restless and decided to drop in and spend the evening with the boys. First, we showed up at their worship band rehearsal because Russell, one of the band members (who had recently begun to date Rachel), assured us that we would be welcome. Rachel led the way to the practice room, and then immediately disappeared upon entering the room, reappearing next to Russell. For whatever reason, they were not playing music when we entered, and Drummer immediately came over to meet us at the door, despite another band member’s distasteful reaction to our presence.
I was the last one through the door, and therefore received the last hug, but don’t you always save the best for last? After her hug, Libby bounded off to ask if she could try a guitar as Drummer stepped toward me with a big smile and wrapped his arms around me. The hug did not seem particularly remarkable until we pulled away and Drummer did not step back to where he had stood. Though we were no longer touching, he stayed right there, in my personal space, and engaged me in conversation.
After typical greeting topics, we walked over to a table where Libby was talking with one of the guys and soon they were both engaged in our conversation. However, when Drummer and I started talking about the number of old manuscripts of certain books in the Bible that had been copied without significant disparities, we lost them. Libby walked away to go make Rachel laugh and Drummer and I were once again completely engrossed in conversation despite our surroundings.
When the last band member entered the room, Libby, Rachel and I took our cue and left. On the way out, we requested to spend time with everyone after rehearsal. Drummer seemed hesitant, but told us to call his roommates and see if they were around. He added that he wouldn’t be home until after 8:30. Once back in the van, Libby tried calling Drummer’s other roommates to see who was home, but to no avail. There was nothing left to do but kill some time at Dairy Queen. We even called Drummer after rehearsal to see if he wanted us to pick up some ice cream for him. He declined, but told us that he was on his way home.
We were waiting in the van when Drummer’s slightly run-down two-door pulled into a parking spot. Even with his car windows rolled up, we could hear him singing at the top of his lungs along to the music, and we couldn’t hide our amusement. However, Drummer was not even remotely suspicious and only mildly self-conscious when he exited the car and found us laughing as we vacated our own vehicle. We were known for our goofiness and propensity to amuse ourselves.
Drummer wasn’t in a hurry to make his way over to us, but he was still humming to himself and seemed particularly happy. When he finally walked in our direction, Rachel offered him the rest of her Blizzard because she had decided to throw it out. Drummer did not hesitate before rescuing the ice cream from its fate and proceeded to devour it as he led us up the stairs to the apartment. He told us to make ourselves at home as he wandered into the kitchen to throw away the now empty cup before heading to his room, explaining that he needed to put together his drum set tonight so he probably wouldn’t be much fun.
Undeterred, I stuck my head into his room, and he looked over from his closet long enough to answer my hesitant request with, “Sure, come on in.” I immediately walked over to the bookshelf that lay on top of his desk and examined its contents. As I commented and asked questions about certain books I was aware that he was pulling out drumming pads of different sizes and the metal pieces that appeared to connect them.
This construction process seemed to take forever. I think Drummer put it together and took it apart a couple times before he figured it out without the instructions. I wasn’t in the least bit bothered as I sat on the floor examining his well-loved drumsticks. Discussion was a little stunted by his focus on the drum set construction, but I enjoyed every minute in his presence, whether talking or not. Before I left that night, I asked to borrow Waking the Dead by John Eldredge. It wasn’t a ploy; I really had that book at the top of my reading list.
The following night was the weekly college and career group event at the mega church. Drummer was of course there playing drums and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I even loved the way he dressed, and I’ve never much cared about a guy’s clothing before. He almost always wore green Converse with black rubber and laces with the most awesome belt I’ve ever seen. The best part of the belt by far was the buckle, which was silver with a black indentation of a drum set.
When the event was over, we all stood around talking. Eventually, a group of us would head off to Bennigan’s for some late night snacking and socializing. I made sure to bring this up in conversation with Drummer, hoping that he would come this time. He gave excuses and seemed to imply that he never came out afterward so I let him be.
To be continued...
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