Chapter 1: How I met Ginny B.

I was desperate for a date for my fraternity’s fall formal in November, and the young lady I was seeing had broken up with me. She was nice about it, and I couldn’t complain. We had no chemistry, and even I noticed this. She did not want to continue going out and miss out on meeting Mr. Right.

I can’t blame her; going to frat parties with her was like attending a wake. We danced a few times, but most of the time was spent in awkward silence. We’d sit together, look at each other, and chat to people we knew. We just chatted briefly when I handed her another drink from the keg.

To her credit, she volunteered to ask a girl in her dorm to the dance with me. I had nothing to lose and told her to go ahead.

Ginny B was the girl under consideration. I knew Ginny, and she was obviously outside of my comfort zone. Ginny was an amazing girl. She was tall, thin, and attractive. I would not describe her as beautiful, but she would not shame me in public either.

She asked Ginny if she was interested in going to a fraternity formal dance with me in two weeks. Ginny was open to it if I approached her in person. My former semi-girlfriend had planned for me to meet Ginny in the Student Union the next day after my last class.

I entered the grill at the agreed-upon hour. Ginny was patiently sitting there waiting. When she noticed me approaching, she broke out in a huge smile. I threw my book bag on the seat opposite her.

I introduced myself as James Mercer and asked if she wanted another soft drink. She said yes, so I fetched us a couple of soft drinks. We spoke briefly about academics and campus gossip, and then I got down to business, asking her to the formal.

I barely got out the words “would you...” before she enthusiastically said yes. I had to ask again since I wasn’t sure I understood her the first time.

That had been easy. We spent the remainder of our time in the grill room telling each other about ourselves. I told her I was the son of a social worker/teacher and an automotive parts plant manager. She was the daughter of a college president and a practicing psychologist. Impressive, I thought. This was a girl I’d gladly take home to meet my folks.

When we got up to go, I saw the top of her head was near to my nose. I’m over six feet tall and usually have to bend down while slow dancing with most girls. It was nice to have someone about my height to date.

I offered to walk her back to her dorm, and she accepted. During our three-block walk, we engaged in more small talk. I realized I felt really at ease around her. I didn’t feel the customary trepidation that comes with talking to a young woman.

At the door of her dorm, she stood on tiptoes and kissed my cheek. Then she turned and skipped inside her dormitory.

I floated all six blocks to my fraternity house. Yes, sir, this one may be worth keeping. Never before had I felt so comfortable around a young woman. At last, a young lady that liked me. So that’s how I met Ginny B.