The Jon and Carrie Love Story, part 9

I was entering travel season at work again, which meant trips to New York state, western Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Arizona, California-- each year some trips were the same but others were in different locations. This year a conference was being held on a cruise ship, and I was excited to go, and get paid to boot!

I had never been on a cruise ship before. The sunny beaches of Catalina Island and Ensenada, Mexico, were a welcome relief to the snow that was now falling in Yakima. I spent the days attending meetings, eating way too much, watching movies in my room, and eating some more. During the evenings, I realized being one of the only single people on board was quite lonely. I avoided the dining room, hit a few shows, but mostly lounged. I made the mistake of lounging in an actual lounge, where I sat at a bar to watch and listen to people sing karaoke. A very much older gentleman in a white polyester suit decided I was his new friend.

"You gonna sing?"

"No."

"I'll go sing for you."

I did the courtesy watch for 5 seconds then bolted out the door.

Ug. Sometimes it sucked being single.

I hadn't been in Yakima very long, but already people were getting engaged, and there just wasn't much keeping me there. I thought long and hard, and I decided I should keep my options open. I would start casually looking for an apartment and job in Seattle or Portland. A bigger city might do me good. Maybe I could even find something by the following summer.

I came home from the cruise. It was a cold December, and snow was everywhere. I even stoked my fireplace with logs and lit it for the first time. The Singles Branch was holding a snowmobiling activity, which happened to be out past where Ye Olde Communal Living Bed & Breakfast was, so I drove over. I arrived and waited for a chance to drive one of the snowmobiles, but had to settle for riding with a partner. Ok, I supposed I could deal with that. But fate seemed to strike that day-- my partner turned out to be the most dare-devilish, speed demon within the tri-county area.

Yep. It was Jon.

Me, who drives like a grandma, always obeying traffic laws-- yes, boring old me. Holding on for dear life to Jon, who drove like a complete and utter maniac.

"Slllloooowwww dooooowwwwnnnn!!!"

"Whaaaaatttt?"

He rounded corners without so much as letting his foot off the gas. He mostly didn't know where he was going, even though there were tracks from the other mobiles. To say I was scared was an understatement. We went like this for several rounds, me asking if I could jump off and walk back, him either not hearing or not really caring. He was having so much fun, and I was worried about safety! What a ninny! (Mind you, this would set the stage for our future lives together.)

Much to my happiness, he finally came to a stop, and my body peeled itself off the contraption. I literally fell to the ground, maybe even kissing the snow, except the ground was probably still spinning. I vowed to never, ever ride on a snowmobile with him again. To this day I can say I have upheld that vow.

But within a few weeks, Jon would muster up the courage and I would actually agree to ride with him... in his car.... on a date. >>Continue to Part 10