Where We Met

Whenever I find myself in The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Great Hall, I think of Bill. It’s where we went on our first date, the room that launched a romance.

We were leaving after spending an hour or so talking in the American Wing that then, was like a sanctuary rather then the noisy, invasive place it’s become since putting in a cafe that rivals any at Epcot.

Damn those mercenary powers that be, alas, having more respect for a buck than the humble price of peace.

But back to Bill, who was shy that night, quiet yet content. It surprised me really considering who he was. In hindsight, it may have been the most attractive thing about him, his innate humility minus swagger or strut.

We sat on Shaker-like benches, also long gone, facing Central Park at dusk, the trees seeming to waltz for our benefit. My clarity of the evening surprises me since I can barely remember last night, but its colors longingly loom like a favorite landscape.

Me in a little Audrey dress wanting so much to please since he left the evening up to me. Would he be disappointed or bored at the Met?

Will I turn him off as fast as I turned him on?

Underestimating him, as well as myself, he thanked me repeatedly for taking him there.

He was so polite not to mention sexy in his black Levis. A red button-down beneath the black raincoat his mom bought him. Boots clicking on the overly polished parquet floor.

As we were about to head for the front doors facing fifth like curtains that were about to open, despite the crowd, despite anything at all, he swung me around ever so gently for a long, first kiss.

Whenever I find myself in The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Great Hall, I think of Bill. It’s where we went on our first date, the room that launched a romance.

William Melvin Hicks would have been 57 years-old today.

(1961-1994)

Happy Birthday Willie.

Miss you.

Love, Susannah

 

 

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in art, Culture, friendship, grace, Gratitude, History, humanity, humor, Love, nature, New York City, Women and men, words, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

42 Responses to Where We Met

  1. skinnyuz2b says:

    Such a poignant piece, Susannah. I could feel the tentative electricity in the air. A beautiful memory forever impressed upon you heart.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I have to get ready for comments I’ll delete since Hickites come out of the woodwork, but I remember everything with such clarity Skinny. Last night I walked to the Met to see their Xmas tree, always a delight, then wandered into the American Wing. I stood in the center and envisioned what it was like well over 20 years ago. I felt his presence. Heard that Texas giggle. Thanks for honoring him and me today.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Having dealt with my father’s death a little over 2 years ago, I understand what it is like to lose someone you really cared about. I have kinda concluded that I don’t understand the romantic love as well as I thought. Or, I do, but cannot seem to find anyone I care that way about. Whatever the reason, I am dealing. I am so very sorry about Bill. It is wonderful that you can remember him and that first date so very well after a fairly long stretch of time. I will say a prayer for you.
    Scott

    Like

  3. How brave you were taking him to the Met. I’m not sure exactly what a Hickite is but I can’t imagine this offending anyone. Very sweet. Fresh love is always very sweet.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Sorryless says:

    Susannah,

    As first dates go, The Met has to be damn near top of the list perfect. As was this post of yours about Bill, inside a memory you paint as if it is happening right fucking now. Excuse my French, but this is magnificent writing so it’s your fault! LOL.

    To Willie and the Met. And to curtains we open to forever.

    Peace

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Eilene Lyon says:

    I confess I had to look him up – did not know about him I guess. This is a sweet piece about an important night in your life. Thanks for sharing.

    Like

  6. It’s nice that you have that place to remember him with. I love tribute, as always.

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s so garishly changed. You can no longer see the park from the windows and those lovely benches we sat in were replaced by a cash register. Before all you heard was the water tinkling from the fountain. Now it’s the espresso machine. My memory and I left disheartened. Change, not always for the better.

      Like

  7. robprice59 says:

    Memory is a strange thing: wonderful, yet confusing and challenging. Those triggers that evoke images: places, scents, sounds. Love the romance in this.

    Like

  8. Gail Kaufman says:

    That’s a beautiful story. My first date with my husband was also at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. My visit was part of an assignment for an art history class I was taking at Baruch College. It was the perfect excuse for me to ask him out. Master works and majestic architecture makes a museum the perfect first-date venue, especially in NYC.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. “As we were about to head for the front doors facing fifth like curtains that were about to open, despite the crowd, despite anything at all, he swung me around ever so gently for a long, first kiss.”
    CHILLS …. this scene is right out of a movie that gives hearts all across the land hope.

    Liked by 1 person

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