I will begin this story by saying Jeff is not my “type.” Typically I date fireman and police officers. I don’t know why I just do.
Jeff and I knew each other casually through a group at work who would meet for lunch. After dating many sweet guys I decided I needed a different strategy. While having coffee one morning at Fat Apples Cafe and Bakery in El Cerrito I made a complete list of what I would like in a potential boyfriend. I had a lot of love to give and just not anyone would do. This person should be a Boy Scout or rather an Eagle Scout, okay, maybe there is a pattern here…anyway, this person should be able to enjoy the great outdoors, but not feel uncomfortable at the opera. Said person should be able to work on cars and not feel uncomfortable under the sink as well. He should be the “yang” to my “yin” although most of the things he will be competent at will mostly scare or annoy me to death. These include skiing, mountain biking, snorkeling, most gardening and housing projects, childbirth…I could go on. My list complete, the sole (and my soul) candidate was Jeff.
Imagine my dismay as he is not my type, but I knew from previous conversations he was an Eagle Scout from Montana and he has skied since he was 5! What luck! I asked him out to a baseball game and he brought along a friend he tried to fix me up with. Apparently I am not his type either. I declined his offer and mentally vowed never to speak to him again. A week later Jeff asked me out to a baseball game. After verifying with some skepticism we would be the only ones going out to this game together I said yes. This was on July 21, 1989. We have been together ever since and I was right. I am still mostly scared or annoyed to death by some of the things Jeff has gotten me into.