Just a Moment

The first place I lived in Boston - after the college years at BU, my subsequent departure for NJ and camp life and then London and a European backpacking adventure - after all of that, was a three bedroom apartment in Brighton.

Roommates came and went during the three years I lived in that apartment, but it started with myself and two girlfriends from college. They'd found the place while I was still backpacking abroad and I moved in sight unseen. As we were unpacking our kitchen that first night, they told me about the realtor that had showed them the place. "He's super cute, Kel," they explained. "We should all grab drinks one night. You'd like him."

We did grab those drinks, I did like him, and he liked me. A date was planned. I'd fretted all day over what to wear for the evening, modeling outfits for the roommates, swapping and debating shoes and earrings up until the minute the doorbell rang. (For the record, I settled on a simple black top, a pink and red patterned skirt, silver earrings, and black kitten heels. I'm pretty sure I still own the entire outfit.)

He came into our kitchen confidently, remarked on how much better the place looked now that it was lived in. He and I lingered over a glass of wine with my roommates, all four of us making conversation; all of us doing our best to pretend we knew how adults behaved during gatherings such as this. With the last bit of wine sipped from our glass he and I stood to go. "Where are you headed tonight?" my friend Kate asked.

I turned to him, expectantly. He shrugged. "I've heard of this great spot downtown on the water - The Barking Crab? I thought we'd try there."

"Oh, I've heard about that place," exclaimed Kate. She turned towards me. "Kel, it's one of those places that you've got to go to if you're a true Bostonian."

We drove downtown in his car, humming along to a brand new artist that had just surfaced on the radio airwaves. Our dinner was lovely, romantic yet casual, the food was good, the beer was cold. It was - and remains - one of the nicest dates I've ever been on. The relationship did not unfold nearly as well as that first date did, for no other reason than we were both very young.
To this day I remain glad that I caught that moment, a really great date, so early in my adult life. It's nice that I've had - and still have - that little, quiet, brief memory to think back on from time to time.

Tonight I met my old roommate, Kate, and her daughter for dinner at The Barking Crab. Kate lives in Vermont these days, I don't see her as much as I would like. She is married with a two year old, both of our schedules are hectic. As she and I sat on a bench, entertaining her daughter while we waited for a table, I commented on the fact that it'd been at least a year since I'd been back to The Barking Crab. "And do you know the first time I ever came here?" I asked her. "I totally do!" she exclaimed. "Gosh, I remember that date you two went on like it was yesterday!"

It was nine years ago, not yesterday. Still, it's nice to think of those memories from time to time. And of course, all of the memories that have come along since.

Because I wouldn't change a single moment.