I apologize for my absence the past few weeks. A trip to Denver to learn marriage counseling techniques required me to read four books and be in Colorado all last week. You can only imagine my schedule leading up to this event.
If anyone knows me, they know I despise flying. Oh not because I’m afraid to fly, rather I want to be treated better than a refugee when I travel. The last flight I took, I felt like I was in line for the last plane out of a third world country before the coup took place. Kids screaming, frantic people running everywhere with cold, terse, officials asking, “Papers please.”
So this time, I chose the more calming route. I rented a car and traversed the interstates west to Oklahoma City. Accomplishing that part of my itinerary, I then took nondescript roads through the prairies all the way to Denver. I went through little towns in Oklahoma like Forgan. It’s total school population from K-thru-12 is only 160 students. I traveled through Eads, Garden City, and Ulysses, Kansas, Kit Carson, Lamar, and Limon, Colorado. I saw more grain and beef cattle then one could see in a lifetime.
It was in one of these small prairie towns that I made the unfortunate decision to stop and get a quick meal at a fast food joint. Have you ever seen something you wished you had never seen? That was me. Standing in line in front of me waiting for their order to be taken was a couple that was just too into each other to notice the rest of us. Let me describe the lovebirds to you. She was in her mid twenties, some teeth missing, and she was wearing cotton shorts and a matching spaghetti strap t-shirt. Her hair looked as if the only hair product that could work for her was Grease Relief, and she wouldn’t have won best supported actress either. Her small t-shirt one size too small, left her with an ample amount of what we used to call back in Kentucky, Kentucky cleavage. That is, her shirt and her shorts could never meet thus leaving her belly resembling a busted can of biscuits.
Despite one eye being crossed, she was a starry eyed as she she was held by her boyfriend from behind. While a distinguished looking gentlemen stood next to me and rolled his eyes at their continued show of love, it sure didn’t stop the boyfriend’s ardor. He looked to be about 100 pounds lighter than her, and sported a shaggy tufted haircut. With also a tooth missing and grinning ear to ear, he continued to nuzzle and kiss her neck and stared at her with all the love he could muster with his own two crossed eyes. Watching this fairy tale romance was as stomach churning as a prince climbing Rapunzel’s hair only to find out she was bald and he had been crawling to her by her armpit hair.
I left that place thinking while I may have stopped for a quick sandwich from a burger joint, I bet that was the high point of their week. A friend of mine used a saying that is most appropriate for their young love, “There is a lid for every pot.” I guess in this case, she would have to clarify that with, “a lid for every pot belly”.
I doubt they cared what anyone else thought of their public display of affection. They were in love. Though their story might never be told except one day to their own children, it didn’t matter to them. They shut the rest of us out of their world while we stood in line. I am a romantic at heart, but some love stories might be better left untold.