h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I knew it would go well when she mentioned Perl and Linux. We met in the student center bowling alley. I hadn't washed my hair that morning, but it was plenty cold out so the stocking cap I was wearing didn't seem too horribly out of place. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. She was so sublime...

It was February of 2001. I was going back home to see some old friends, check out the new Science Museum building, and just basically kick around. There was a ravishingly good greek restaurant that lies close to my heart, and I was definitely going to hit that place too. Good olives. My friend Quinn was putting me up.

Maybe I should say something about Quinn before I go any farther. He's a wild and crazy guy. We're practically diametrically opposed like that - I'm quiet, calm, reserved, practically anal in my shyness. I can sit for hours and not say a thing - this is absolute murder on my social life, as you can imagine. But Quinn is fun. He's hip. He looks good in cool sunglasses - a trait I never managed to acquire. He's also completely and totally off the wall. He makes huge decisions in a heartbeat. When we're together, some of my reservedness rubs off on him (it keeps us generally alive,) and some of his irrationality rubs off on me. The mix usually means that we have a good time together, regardless of whatever else goes on. And that's Quinn. (I think he might be in prison just now. More on that in a bit.)

So, I got off the plane, did the waiting in line and gathering of bags thing. Called Quinn. Hmm, that's funny... there's no answer. I was sure I'd told him I was going to be here just now. Looked up his parents, called them. His dad just laughed. "He didn't tell you? He joined the military, day before last. Went off to boot camp yesterday." I was dissapointed - didn't even have the decency to join the Marines. This left me with a bit of a problem, you see - about a thousand miles from home with no place to stay. If it weren't February, I'd just sleep in the park near where I used to live, no problem. Minnesota in the winter, though, can get down to 20 below zero (that's about -30 in Celcius, for you Brits.) But, after a few calls to some friends of the family, it was all worked out - I was staying with some congenial folks near the University of Minnesota's St. Paul campus.

A cab ride and a bus stop or two later (free for students, in true hitchhiker style I managed to pass my expired student ID off as still valid,) I got out at the St. Paul Campus Student Center, and figured I'd go in for something hot to drink before I set out to walk the rest of the way. My nose was still pink, as were (I'm sure) my cheeks, when I came across an absolutely lovely young woman with fiery red hair. Like oak leaves in the autumn, it was - a more perfect shade of red I'd never encountered before, nor have I come across any since. In extreme contrast to the bitterness outside, there was a certain warmth about her - they glowed, those blue eyes of hers, and her tinkling laugh was delightful. I will make what could be a very long story a very little bit shorter and say that I asked her on a date.

I picked her up several hours later, after I'd had the chance to shave and wash my hair. The usual sort of "This is a bit awkward, isn't it?" sort of chit chat occupied the first little bit of our conversation, as was to be expected. The first ten seconds or so. After that, is was wonderful. I'd never imagined that someone who was so indescribably beautiful on the outside could possibly also be so achingly brilliant and witty as well. She asked what I did for a living.
"I work in technical support, but I'm sort of looking for a job in web development."
"Oh, really. You must work with Perl and Linux then?"
And that was when I knew that things were going to be better than I could have imagined. There hardly seemed to be enough time to actually *talk*, what with all of these wonderful exchanges going on. Every thing she said, every word, every idea she shared was the most fascinating thing I'd ever heard. And they all reminded me of something, something I absolutely had to share with her, right now. And then when I did, they reminded her of something, which I found simply amazing, of course... talking to her was like digging in a box of golden sand, always discovering with each handfull I'd just moved that something more amazing had just been uncovered, and it hinted at things more fascinating just beyond. If I'd been given a lifetime, I'm sure I couldn't have uncovered everything I wanted to about this girl. There's simply too much to her. I hardly ate a bite at the restaurant I'd brought her to, (the greek one, I'll write a review about it later,) but I did manage to get in a few olives. There was too much to be said and to find out about to bother wasting time with the most delicious food on earth. I dropped her off that night, afraid that I might not see her again...

It's 5:00, I'm afraid. I have to get going... there's another redhead waiting in Salt Lake to buy my car, and I need the money. If anyone particularly likes this part of the story, I'll post the rest.

Please tell us more - I'm curious about what happened next!

The next day, of course, was Sunday. Church in the morning, a small meal afterward, and then the long, dark teatime of the soul. Sort of. Switch the long, dark part for short and light, and instead of holding it in your living room, set it in a small, warm, and cozy cafe.

A decent bit of my conversation with Christine (that's her name) the night before had been regarding my religion. She seemed rather interested in our particular beliefs, so when I heard that there was going to be a meeting that night for people who wanted to learn more, I decided to give it a shot.

At her appartment:
"What are *you* doing here?" she asked, smiling.
I told her. "Would you like to come?"
"Will you be there?" she asked.
What a silly question.

Zip ahead an hour or two. The meeting/conference/whatever is over, and refreshments are being served. It's at that point in the night where the thing you're at is ending, it's a reasonable time to be leaving, only you're not sure whether you're really going to have to take her home. In this case, of course, parting her company was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. I wasn't sure how to bring it up, unfortunately, but as I bumbled around trying to come up with a way to say "Please don't go away just yet," she took care of it for me.
"Why don't we go get something to eat?" she asked.
What a silly question.

My favorite cafe in Minneapolis. The windows are steamy, the tea is hot and sweet, the cashier is always colorful. Against the sub-zero temperatures outside, it was simply delightful. It was also going to open for about another ten minutes - approximately long enough to buy two cups of tea and load them with sugar, and then it's back out into the cold.
A peculiar thing happens when it's very, very cold out, and you spend more than a bit of time being outside. Your sense of what's really cold gets warped. I'm convinced that, given the right conditions, I could get used to living in a place where it's 20 below zero all the time. I remember being a kid, and when it got up to ten degrees, taking off my coat because it was so hot out. 35 degrees (just barely above freezing) would have been cause for shorts and a t-shirt. I must have started to get acclimatized by then, because even though our breath was turning into sparkling puffs of vapor as we exhaled into the darkness, I was extremely comfortable just then. The night was quiet and still, and we paused outside of the cafe for a moment, alone in the night, to scoop up some snow to cool down our tea. I was wearing a red wool scarf, and it needed a bit of adjusting. I took it off and fiddled with it a bit, then realized that Christine was smiling at me in a cute, impish sort of way. I wasn't sure why, at first, but after a bit it settled in. I took my scarf, one end in each hand, tossed it over her head, and tugged her gently toward me into a soft and tender kiss. Time stopped, there on the snowbank outside of a warm cafe on a cold night, kissing Christine.
Or... it would have, if I'd been brave enough. I wasn't, though, and I put my scarf back on without kissing her. To this day, I kick myself repeatedly for not finding out what it would be like to press my lips against those of what can best be described as my soul mate. That's really a rather silly term to use, I think, or at least it gets overused and cheapened. I opened the car door for her, and we spent the rest of the evening driving about Minneapolis, looking at the big houses in Tangletown. At about 2 am she said she'd better get to bed, as she might have work in the morning, but I should call her at about 10:00 and did I think I might want to do something with her if it could be arranged? What a silly question.

The most painful part is yet to come.

You're very good at telling a story...

Painful? Oh no....

Redheads - nothing but trouble, but how can ya resist em? Ya can't stop now man.

Go on }

...yes...please

Ok... I'm finally going to write the ending. Like I said, it's painful. I behaved like a perfect ass. That's all there is to it, really, I'm afraid.

She said we'd do something, though. I *remember* her saying we'd do something, and I should call her at about 10:00. It was a holiday, too, so school wouldn't be in session. I was up at 8, ready by 9, and at five minutes to ten I called her appartment. Strange, she wasn't there. She'd indicated that she would be, though... and no, the answerer didn't know where she'd gone or when she'd be back. This was rather unusual, I think we can agree, but I figured she'd gone out early for some reason or other and would be back soon. The person on the other end of the line said that calling back at about noon would probably be a good idea.

I can't honestly say that I remember the rest of the day terribly well. I remember planning something that would be delightful and entertaining, though I don't remember what it was any more I was planning. I do remember that I stopped by a mall and bought her a card and flowers. I didn't get around to writing on the card until later, though. Oh, yes, and cologne. I hadn't brought any, and figured it wouldn't hurt if I picked some up. But what kind did she like? I had no idea. Well, her roommate had seemed friendly enough. I gave her a ring and asked. No, she's not back yet... no, she's really not certain when she'll be there, or what sort of cologne she likes. It wasn't noon yet, though, so I wasn't particularly concerned. Very well, I thank you for your time, etc., *click*.

I thought about it for a bit, and realized that if I left just then I could probably arrive at her appartment at almost exactly noon, at which time she should be arriving home from whatever it was that was keeping her. Lovely! I took off and arrived almost exactly on time. Nobody was home, though... and it was even a bit after 12:00. I rang their neighbor, said I had some flowers to deliver and would they please let me in the front door. (Appartment buildings in Minnesota have the front door locked, so nobody who doesn't live there can get in.) He obliged, and I left the flowers there, sans card. (Hadn't had a chance to write in it yet.) I hung around for a bit, heater blasting in the car. The weather was perfectly wicked - probably 15 below with cutting wind. At 12:30 I decided not to wait any longer, and thought about where she could be. Not at home, obviously. She'd mentioned where she worked and that she might need to stop in there for a bit today. Well, couldn't hurt.

At the University of Minnesota, upstairs from where we'd first met:
"Excuse me... does Christine work here? Gorgeous redhead?"
"Yes, she works here. Can I help you?"
"Well, I've been looking for her... have you seen her?"
"No, I'm afraid I haven't seen her all day. She did say she was going to be here, though..." she thought for a minute, clearly confused or concerned. "That's odd, isn't it? She's usually here when she says she will be."
Of course she is. Everything about her is neat and orderly. And I never saw her wearing anything that wasn't perfectly adorable, in a fashionable but not conforming way.

I went into the cafeteria and sat down. Where on earth could she be? It was getting to be mid-afternoon by then, and nobody who would normally know where their friend/co-worker would be seemed to have seen hide nor hair of her since the night before. Well, what would you assume? It's entirely possible - likely, even - that I'm unusually paranoid. It would be a cruel trick of fate to introduce me to a woman like this and then snatch her out of my life just as quickly, wouldn't it? The more I thought about it - her mysterious absence, the lack of knowledge of anyone regarding her whereabouts - the more worried I became about her safety. Had she driven somewhere early in the morning, slid on a patch of ice, and been stranded along the freeway? Perhaps she was walking along a riverbank and, for whatever reason, slid into the freezing water? Cripes, there are a million different ways someone could get hurt outside in Minnesota on the wintertime. And with the weather the way it was, a simple complication (sprained ankle, whatever) could quickly become life threatening.

Irrational? Yes, certainly. She's a grown woman and is more than capable of taking care of herself. But while it's easy to see that now, at the time I would have nothing to do with rational thinking. It was a stranger, a hideous beast to be avoided at all costs. I've got my friends right here, thank you, their names are Concern and Panic and Absurd Sillyness in the Face of the Possibility of Something Really Good. I called her appartment again. Her roommate was clearly annoyed with me for calling so often. No, she's not home. No, I don't know where she is.

Fast forward several hours - it's 11:00 at night. I'm at the home of a different friend, who is going to drive me to the airport in the morning. The phone rings.

"Daniel? It's Christine. I... heard that you called."
"Yes... I did... are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I'm sorry about today, I had to go develop pictures with my friend, and we ended up taking all day."
Right. Of course. Perfectly logical - the work she had to do was not where she normally worked, but in the dark room, which would be in a different place altogether. None of her co-workers would have seen her. Of course. I'm a perfect ass, aren't I? Calling every hour to see if she's home yet, and so forth, when she's perfectly fine.
"...oh."
"So..." she asks, "What did you do today?"
What a silly question. My answer, unfortunately, was even sillier.

The last thing I ever got from her was something along these lines:
"I'm sorry, Dan, but calling 15 times in a day, showing up at my work, bugging my roommates about cologne... it's way, way too much. Please don't contact me again."

And just like that, I'd arsed myself out of what could have been, if not a romantic interlude, certainly a close friendship with a beautiful and wonderful person. That was a bit long, wasn't it? I'm terribly sorry if I've bored any of you.

Not boring - you're good at telling a story...

I think she should have told you she'd be busy and couldn't see you - either call you if she had your phone number, or at least tell her room mates and ask them to give you a message in case you'd call...

Not boring at all.

What did I tell you about redheads ?