Last night, while listening to my sister try to convince my 5 year old niece that Idaho is, in fact, known for its potatoes, I recalled the very first trip I ever took with Mr. Bee.
And two of Mr. Bee’s friends.
To Vegas.
Needless to say, it was a fun and eventful trip!
But while looking back at old emails for any good stories from that trip, I found an even BETTER story to tell you, so the Vegas Road Trip story will have to wait for another time.
This is the story of how Mr. Bee and I became, well, “Mr. Bee and I.”
When I first met Mr. Bee, I was dating a guy I had met through a dorm mate of mine in college. We had been dating just a few months when I was introduced to Mr. Bee, a friend of my then boyfriend’s, at a party.
Well, I say “party” but what I really mean is a bunch of nerds getting together to play board games.
But not even party board games like Cranium or Apples to Apples. NERD board games.
Like, seriously, right? Can you picture me sitting around playing games about industry and development? Yeah, me neither.
But then I met Mr. Bee and I have to say that I always knew that something was different about this guy. Unlike my boyfriend at the time, this Bee fellow seemed to actually know how to treat his girlfriend right. In fact, all the boys used to joke that one day Mr. Bee should write a book about how to properly date/treat a girl. God knows, the other boys in the room definitely needed a lesson. Or two. Or a 12-step program.
So I was dating Ex-Boyfriend #1, let’s call him “Derek”, and Mr. Bee was busy dating another girl, who was actually Derek’s cousin.
Confused yet?
Eventually, a year and a half later, I finally broke up with Derek (which is another story for another time, but which includes a whole lot of drama and me making my debut on national radio discussing my love life) and quickly made a rebound to Ex-Boyfriend #2. After that relationship was over, I soon discovered that Mr. Bee had also broken up with his girlfriend.
What I think is hilarious is that I remember the exact moment I found out that Mr. Bee was on the market. The car I was in, the people I was with, and my very first thought being, “Oh, reeeeeeally?”
We were, in fact, in a car making our way to visit Mr. Bee. I don’t know if hormones took over at that point or what, but let’s just say that Mama laid it on T.H.I.C.K.
I had no shame.
None.
I was helplessly and hopelessly after this man who I knew was easily the most fantastic, loving, caring, funny and wonderful man that I had ever met in my 21 years. And while I thought I was using my slick charismatic ways to woo him in to submission, I guess it turns out that I was just shamelessly throwing myself at him.
Eh. Whatever works, right?
Oh, and did I forget to mention that Mr. Bee’s roommate (if you can call it that) at the time was Derek? Uh, yeah. Complicated much?
Add in my man-eater (not literally, people! My parents read this blog! Jesus.) ways, and we had a little bit of drama on our hands.
Well, actually a lot of drama. Because Derek took it upon himself to email our entire group of friends (classy) with a six paragraph email (super classy) that detailed the situation and the acceptable options (wow, really? yes, really). One of the options, of course, was my expulsion from the group. Because, you know, he was mature like that.
While I gasped at the computer screen with my jaw on the floor, Mr. Bee was busy writing a fantastic and diplomatic response to my ex-boyfriend’s tirade. And remember, at this point Mr. Bee and I were only flirting with each other, no relationship had been established.
Despite Derek’s assumptions that Mr. Bee was just “an exceptional friend and human and wouldn’t take all of [Mama Bee]’s not so subtle advances” (yikes! Was I *that* transparent?), Mr. Bee actually came over four days later to hang out with my roommate and me.
That night, while we sat side-by-side in the darkened living room, watching God knows what on television, that’s when Mr. Bee kissed me for the first time.
I think part of me knew, right then and there, that he would be the last boy I would ever kiss. And he, apparently, felt the same way because he was declaring his love (albeit, in French – thankyouverymuch online dictionaries!) a whooping four days later.
The day after our first kiss, Mr. Bee decided to email Derek and inform him of the developments. What follows is probably one of my favorite emails that I have ever read. Ever.
Derek ~
Forgive me for what I am about to announce. I know it’s chicken shit to do this in an e-mail, but here goes. You’ve been my good friend for a good long time, but I’m going to do something that might jeopardize that relationship. I know you won’t understand my desire to do this nor my motivation, but I assure you that it is a conscious decision that I have made. I also know that you would counsel me to do otherwise, as have other friends of mine. However, all of that being said; if this is a mistake, I am taking full responsibility. If this damages our friendship, I am sorry, but again I take full responsibility.
Derek, I’m gay, and I love you.
No. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up, I intend to go out with [Mama Bee], seriously. We’ve been hanging out a bit over the last week and I’m very much into her. I really enjoy her company and I think there may be potential there. I’m imagining a broad spectrum of ways you could take this, and I’ve certainly been over-thinking everything, so let me know your thoughts. I’ll certainly understand if you’re upset and/or disappointed and I’ll bear the condemnation.
~ Mr. Bee
After we declared our love, so to speak, a friend of ours, who had been on that original horrible email chain, said something that I will always remember. Something along the lines of “The timing is crap, but I think you two could really have something.”
And we do. We really do.
Song title: Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield
