The Marrying Kind by Ken O'Neill

Author:Ken O'Neill [O’Neill, Ken]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781602827110
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
Published: 2012-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen:

Talkin’ ’bout a Revolution

My tenure at More Parties! was turning out to be quite a bit less live-from-the-trenches than I’d originally anticipated. Most days Adam and I showed up at his office, had coffee, and talked about how today would certainly be busier and more challenging than the day prior. Each day, when the challenges failed to materialize, we’d sneak out and go to the gym, or for a long walk. One day, I even dragged Adam to a Hot Nude Yoga class. In the afternoon, we’d try a new restaurant for lunch, or I’d pack up leftovers from the night before and we’d picnic in Washington Square Park.

It had been years since we’d spent this much time alone with each other, and I was loving every minute of it. We’d had a period of this kind of intense together time when we first met and were imprinting on each other. I think it lasted about four months. Ignoring friends and work (well, I ignored work), we spent every moment together. Talking, learning about each other, laughing, making love. And then, sometime around week seventeen, the inevitable happened. We realized we had other friends and family members and obligations before we met each other. They could no longer be ignored. And so we emerged from our love cocoon and once again began attending to all the other people and responsibilities in our lives.

Now, six years later, the time spent “working” with Adam during the day, followed immediately by evenings spent alone with one another at home, brought up all kinds of great memories of our earliest days together.

Adam and I first met on the sidewalk in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It’s funny how memory works; some moments of that day are etched into my brain, others are gone completely. It was January fourteenth, and a light snow was falling—that I know with certainty. I was standing in front of the cathedral as part of a protest group. We were angry about something the Cardinal had said the week before, but I can’t for the life of me recall now what it was. It must have been offensive, though, because it was a very sizable group. We filled the sidewalk on Fifth Avenue, making passage for the pedestrians who were not part of our rally virtually impossible.

I believe I saw Adam before he saw me, but this point is always debated when we retell the story—since I’m telling it now, I saw Adam first. He had a chocolate brown shearling coat on, and the gloves that he wore matched the shearling exactly. I remember wondering if he had gloves to match every coat he owned, and hoping that he didn’t. I would have found that excessive.

He was (and continues to be) spectacularly handsome. I remember thinking, “Wow, he looks smart,” but what does smart-looking mean? He didn’t have horn-rimmed glasses on, he wasn’t carrying a calculus textbook. Still, smart was the overwhelming feeling I had about him. I really

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