The best birthday present ever

I've told this story before, so I'm sorry if you've heard it, but it never gets old for me, so bear with me.

In June 2001 I moved from my hometown of Yuma, Arizona, to Colorado Springs to work at the Gazette. I don't make friends easily, so six months later when my birthday rolled around, I really only knew one person in town, my friend Sarah, who I had worked with in Yuma and had preceded me to the Gazette by a year or so. It being my first birthday away from my birthplace, I didn't want to just sit around the apartment, so I invited Sarah out to lunch. She was broke, so I offered to pay. The way my life had been going, paying for my own birthday lunch didn't see out of the ordinary.

I picked Olive Garden because having one in the same town was still a new thing to me. Ordinarily, I had to drive to Phoenix or San Diego to eat at one, so I still associated it with special events. We agreed to meet up there around 12:30.

I love Sarah. She has many fine qualities. Punctuality isn't one of them. So around 12:40, I was still waiting in the front area. I had told the greeter to hold off on seating me until she had arrived.

I was just sitting there when I heard someone call my name. I look up and see Erin, a reporter at the Gazette who had recently announced was leaving the paper to move to California. With her was someone I didn't know and didn't take much notice of at first.

Erin asked what I was doing, and I said I was waiting for Sarah. She and Sarah were friends, so she sympathized about her being late. She introduced me to her friend, whose name I didn't immediately remember because I'm lousy with names. Erin told me that she and her friend were having a goodbye lunch. I said, that's funny, it's my birthday, so it was a day for occasions.

About then, Sarah walked in. She and Erin chatted for a bit while I told the hostess that we're ready to be seated. Then it occurred to me that Erin and her friend, who I still hadn't paid much attention to, would be waiting for a while because they had just added their name to the list and I was near the top by this point. So I ask if they'd like to join us.

We get a booth, and I'm seated across from Erin's friend, and that was the first opportunity I had to get a good look at her. My first thought? She reminded me of the school teacher on "Little House on the Prairie." Not Miss Beadle. The other one. Eliza Jane.

(No, I never told her that. I never had the courage.)

My second thought was, "Nice eyes." I'm an eye person. I don't make eye contact easily, but when I do, I hold onto it. And she held my gaze too.

She wasn't getting into the conversation between Sarah and Erin, so I asked her a couple of questions and found out she had left the Gazette one month before I began. It was clear from the way she talked that she hadn't left under the happiest of conditions, but she wished me better luck there.

All the while, I kept taking in her face. Wicked chin. Sharp nose. Shy smile. At one point, Erin called her Deb, and this time I paid attention to the name. And I noticed the left hand was ringless.

At one point, Sarah excused herself. Knowing her, I figured she was going to tell the waitress it was my birthday so they'd sing to me. She did that, and they brought a small cake and sang whatever song it is they sing. It wasn't until I got the bill that I realized that the cake wasn't free. Not only had I paid for Sarah's lunch, I had paid for my own cake. (In her defense, she thought it was free and said she wouldn't have ordered it if she had known.)

So that was lunch. And it should have been the end of it, except I couldn't get Deb out of my mind. I thought, maybe, just maybe ...

I called Erin a two days later. She was packing to leave town. I asked her if she thought Deb would go out with me.

Her answer: "I don't know. She's a little strange."

My response: "I'm strange too. We'll get along great."

I got Deb's number from her, and it took me a half hour to work up the courage to use it. When I did, I got her answering machine. I had to go to work, so I did, and when I got there I had a pink message slip waiting in my inbox.

I still have it tacked to my bulletin board.

Deb, it turns out, had thought I was a nice guy, but she thought I was "with" Sarah, and so hadn't thought about asking me out. We made a lunch date, and the rest is history.

So despite the fact that she had left the Gazette a month before I got there, I met my future wife because I had picked Olive Garden, Sarah was late and Erin and Deb had decided to have a farewell lunch. Another reason I don't believe in coincidences anymore.

And that is how I got the best birthday present ever.