All I Wanna Do...a Meet-Cute Worthy of a Romance Novel
- Mar 26
- 7 min read
Updated: Mar 26
You may or may not have noticed that all my blog post names are song titles. Sometimes the song choice is one that has to be found within the letters and spaces of my writing. Other times the song is the story, like my last piece Assassin, an ode to the joy Mario and I found within that John Mayer song driving around LA.
“Assassin” also speaks to the power of sonic memories. A memory that has nothing to do with what you were wearing or how the photo turned out. These are memories tied to a feeling - a feeling I can revisit whenever I hear that particular song - and that is magic.
My LA visit with Mario was filled with sonic memories but this one might be the most magical of all. While Mario and I were walking the streets of his old neighborhood “where art meets crime” as he described Venice, a meet-cute worthy of a romance novel happened.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN SHERYL CROW PLAYS CUPID…
We made our way towards Mario’s old apartment so I could see where he lived when he surfed every morning and lived a life I thought only existed in California dreams. As we approached the corner of Rose & Main I heard Sheryl Crow’s “All I Wanna Do” blaring behind me. When I came to a stop at the crosswalk, I curiously turned my head over my shoulder to see the source of Sheryl’s first single. The culprit was a tall, blonde, and handsome gentleman. I smiled as we made eye contact to try to hide the surprise written all over my face.
Before I could wipe the smile away, tall, blonde, and handsome was standing in front of me. As Sherly declared “This ain’t no disco,” he challenged me “Do you know the next one?” There are three handclaps before the next line. In the space of those claps I hurriedly blurted out “Oh my god I do, but I can’t think of it right now. This is going to kill me!” As Sheryl began the next line of “It ain’t no…” I simultaneously squealed “Wait, wait, wait!” as if I could stop time and on that last ‘wait’ the lyrics came and I sang out “country club either!“ Three more handclaps to bask in the excitement of finding the lyrics. I put my hands up in victory as I sang the last line of the intro, “This is LA!“
“Awesome! Great to meet a fellow music fan,” he said casually and then pointed to the flashing white figure and said “Don’t miss your walk sign.” Just as quickly as our little guessing game began it was over. I crossed the street while he waited at the corner for the opposite light.
There may have been no prize but I was high on meeting his lyrical challenge. I told Mario as we walked along how my high went beyond memory recall. The win was feeling free to be myself with an absolute stranger. I put my hands in the air and I didn’t care. Maybe it was all the Carpool Karaoke the last few days with Mario that had me primed for singing Sheryl Crow on a street corner to a tall, blonde, and handsome stranger.
I wasn’t the only one who felt the musical magic of that moment. Unbeknownst to me, Mario decided to move off Main Street and onto Rose to “see what happens.” We waited for the light and proceeded down Rose Avenue while that tall, blonde, and handsome stranger was on the opposite side of the street, headed toward the boardwalk, same as us. Was this TBH sighting a coincidence? I didn’t know so I focused on what I did instead, our destination. I asked Mario if we should be turning soon to hit his old apartment and he said “No, let’s keep going. I want to see if this guy is going to do something.”
Verbally I said OK to Mario’s request but mentally I had already vetoed the idea this guy was going to do anything. This is me we’re talking about. Perennially single me. Disabled me. My deepest insecurity is that men won’t be attracted to me because of my disability and the way that I walk. Go ahead Mario, let this guy verify my self-fulfilling prophecy after watching me walk. I’ll play along.
There were only two more blocks between us and the boardwalk. With each step my anxiety and anticipation was building as my confidence in move making was decreasing. I gave up after the first block and said “Mario this guy isn’t going to do anything. Let’s turn.” I was tired of waiting and ready to move on but really I was scared to be let down. Mario was not. Find a friend who sees through your fear and meets it with faith.
At the final light before the beach TBH crossed to our side of the street. As he walked ahead of us I said “Forget it Mario, let’s make our turn” because logically no one’s going to stop you when they’re walking ahead of you. Mario remained steadfast and said “Let’s see what he’s going to do.” I rolled with it because I wanted to see the water anyway.
TBH walked ahead of us on that last block and then made a sudden right turn at the boardwalk and disappeared behind a building like a mirage. One minute he was there. The next he was gone. No more waiting. No more wishing. Our game of cat and mouse was officially over.
Like the cars part at the end of Sixteen Candles to reveal Jake Ryan standing against his red Porsche waiting for Samantha, I looked up as we turned the corner onto the beach path and there he was: TBH at 12 o’clock. He stood at the barrier with his eyes ahead on me. My mind shouted, “I hope he’s waiting for me!” Before I could verbalize it, Mario declared “I knew it!” I made a decision in those few seconds between clocking his presence and standing in front of him to own my walk with my head held high (since I have a tendency to look down so I don’t have to see someone notice my gait).
He opened with “You know, I thought about it. I haven’t met such an enthusiastic music fan in awhile.”
I said “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan,” he said.
“Oh, is that right?” I questioned playfully. Then I pointed to Mario, “ Well this guy can back me up. I think you’ve met your match,” I challenged.
“Oh ok, what’s your name?” he inquired.
I introduced myself and the next thing he asked for was my Instagram. He introduced himself as Dave and extended a hand to Mario first. And this is when Mario asserted himself as besties for life with “I’m her friend, Mario,” with intentional emphasis on friend.
Dave then asked where I’m from and how long I’m in town. It was either my thick Chicago accent, overt enthusiasm, or both that gave me away as a tourist. I told him I'm leaving tomorrow and he remarked that was too bad. I looked him in the eye and told him yes our timing was too bad, but this felt really good. I don’t spark with many people and it was a pleasure to meet a fellow fan.
Mario and I didn’t get far before I requested a full stop. No more walking. I needed to catch my breath. With one hand on Mario for support, I said “I want to be present with what just happened.” Inhale. Exhale. I couldn’t believe it as I lived it: me being my most confident and playful self with a man.
Once I named it we kept walking and I told Mario how elated I was at the whole meet-cute. Usually I am oblivious to flirtation. I think that old oblivion was more about my self-worth. I couldn’t believe that someone wanted to flirt with me - that’s how deep my disability insecurity ran. Dave made it as clear as that beautiful day at the beach that he was flirting with me. Better still, I stood in my worth and gave it back as good as I got.
The more we talked my excitement grew to such heights that my hands went back up in the air as I enthusiastically declared “I have man fever” or some such nonsense. In most un-Mario fashion he commanded me to put my hands down. He is never one to yuck my yum, so I lowered my hands in embarrassment and confusion. Mario’s eyes directed me to Dave in the distance loading his trunk. Let Dave hear about my fever. I did not care. Let him hear my excitement. I had something bigger than banter to celebrate.
PLEASED TO MEET ME
Dave met a version of me that didn’t exist previously. A version of me that took my whole life to get to: a woman in total control of herself. He saw the way I walked as I crossed the street and he pursued me. He watched me walk for blocks and he waited for me. He saw me approach with my scissors gait and he asked for the digital equivalent of my phone number. His actions showed that he saw me for all that I am. Dave saw the physical and in our fleeting moments he also saw my enthusiastic, music-loving heart.
More importantly, I met a new me. I love the woman who showed up. On the corner she was excited and playful. She walked through her doubts with a serious assist from her bestie. At the boardwalk she was vibrant and confident. She was utterly herself. Years of therapy and inner work on disability acceptance got me there. Acceptance is not a destination. For me it’s a feeling I work towards every day. The feeling in Venice was a personal victory. I realized all those doubts aren’t me. The woman who showed up is the real me.
Mario and I celebrated my p.v. with drinks at the charming Casa Del Mar hotel. I told Mario as we listened to live music and enjoyed the incredible view of the ocean that if my life were a movie, I would invite Dave back to the Reg Bev Wil. But this wasn’t Pretty Woman (even if I was staying at the iconic locale) and as we both knew, it’s not my style. A woman can fantasize.
Who needs fantasy when your reality is beyond what you dreamed. The last verse of “All I Wanna Do” declares “All I wanna do is have some fun. I gotta feeling, the party has just begun.” The party has just begun getting to know the fully realized me. And all I really wanna do is keep bringing this energy into my life and eventually meet my MMC.
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