...

i was working last night-- slinging beer and delivering shot glasses full of liquor combinations that could remove unsightly facial hair. it was a good night to serve in a bar, particularly that bar, because it was one of those nights when everyone is very generous/drunk. a better person might feel a little guilty taking so much free-will donation off of the temporarily insane, but i don't know any of these "better people".
i had a table of about 14 people doing shots until last call... it was chaos, it was madness, it was fun. every time i thought they were content for a while i would be beckoned back to get a few more shots of jag or some kind of fruity combination. there were beers and whiskey mixes and drinks with cute names... i was all over the place trying to figure out just what goes where and how many. the last thing i would have had time to do was actually spend time really looking at the people i was serving. so as i was cashing out the fantastic 14, a man standing near me handed me his credit card and then just stared at me. a lot. for a long time. after just one month at the bar, this genuinely doesn't not bother me anymore. probably never would have, but certainly not now. so i am printing receipts and going about my business when the staring man says,
"is your name michelle?" (it is, by the way, for those who don't know me)
"yes."
"shelly {insert accurate last name}?"
"yes. how do you know this?" (at this point there is no recognition of the man)
"from grand forks?"
"yes. who are you?"
i ask this question just as i realize that he has handed me his credit card so i really don't have to ask this question at all. i look down at the card and it bears the name of the boy i met at bible camp 17 years ago, my first little love, the boy who drove miles and miles to see me play basketball in high school whenever i would play within 50 miles of his hometown. we were in love.... you know, like 14-year-olds tend to do. july, 1989. red willow bible camp. we volunteered at the same camp for a few summers and we stayed in touch for a long time, but i lost track of him somewhere near the beginning of college. i have wondered about him regularly. thought about looking him up (small town, wouldn't be hard). i even drove to his town once without planning or notice. it was quite easy to find his parents' house, but he wasn't there. i think the last time i saw him i was 18 or 19. in my recent move, i discovered a large envelope of letters from my adolescence. there are at least 5 or 6 letters from him in there.

it's strange. i don't know what the connection is, but we have always maintained a special fondness for each other. i am definitely less straight than i was when i knew him, so it's not love like lover love. but we just clicked and have continued to care about each other over the years.

the end of our conversation as he was being shuffled out the door at closing time was this:
James: i looked you up once, saw that you were living out in Minnesota.
Me: (offering only an inquisitive look, knowing i have never been formally listed at that address)
James: i managed a collection agency for awhile.

that would be the way to find me wouldn't it...