February 6, 2009

For many years, the West Prairie Street Pub in Denton, Texas was a popular hangout for the 20-something to 40-ish something crowd. It was there that I discovered a potentially untapped fortune.

"Henry" had been coming to the Pub for as long as the rest of us. We spoke on occasion, but mostly he was either sitting at the small bar chatting up the owner, or playing pool in the next room. He wasn't much in the "looks" department. Had he been, as sure as oil flows in Texas, my friends and I would have been in fierce competition for him. We were all cordial enough of course and occasionally he would join us all at one of the larger tables, but that's as far as it ever went. Until, one evening, left to my own devices, I ventured up to the Pub alone.

Going to the Pub alone was never a big deal. Rarely did I do this, but during this time a friend had moved to Dallas, another to Hawaii, my mom and stepdad moved to North Carolina and another very good friend was expecting a baby, so on occasion I would go to the Pub for a pint or two on my own. This particular mid-week evening was rather quiet and I found myself sitting at the bar alongside Henry.

We chatted for quite sometime as any acquaintances would do. It was at this time that my entire opinion of Henry changed. Sure, he was still tall, lanky, wearing his ever present wire-framed glasses and buzz cut of a hairdo. Oh, and he was still verging on being buck-toothed. But this evening I saw past all that. Instead I looked beyond his external facade straight into to his bank account. You see, it wasn't until this very evening that I discovered that Henry not only worked at, but was heir to a franchise of "Wiggly Sniggly" grocery stores across the south.

Suddenly I was blinded by having access to an endless supply of S&H green stamps. I'd put my grandmother to shame with the collection I'd amass. Just imagine! New vacuum cleaners, new flatware, new melamine dishes, for myself. Croquet and badminton sets, as well as Pogo Sticks for our skinny, buck-toothed children! Whatever my heart desired!

For the two of us there would be extravagant trips to Florida to attend Wiggly Sniggly conventions. I saw myself lounging poolside during the mornings, spending Henry's money in the toniest shops in Pensacola during the lunch hours, returning to the pool late afternoon with a beach-worthy drink, with a Wiggly Sniggly provided corkscrew straw. All this while he discussed meat freezer systems and new cash register technologies with his colleagues. Nothing but the best for me, er, us! So when he asked me out on a date, I looked around the bar to make sure nobody was listening, and took him up on it.

The first date took place about a week later and he was late. I was rather indignant to say the least. "Doesn't he realize I only go out with the cutest and the bestest of the boys from the Pub?" His explanation for being late was that he missed the driveway to my apartment complex and ended up in the culvert instead and he had to be towed out. So, finally off we go to Fort Worth, his idea. As I learned at the pub, Henry was in the Air Force Reserves which finally explained the horrible haircut. Unfortunately, his idea of a date was to take me to Carswell AFB to show off his salute when entering the front gate.

We drove around the barracks, it was dark out as this was in December, and no soldiers were to be seen. After leaving the base the next stop was a nearby Chinese restaurant complete with dark red interior and lots of black accessories. Food - 1/2 thumb up, cold beer of any brand - 2 big thumbs up. I was desperate for alcohol at this point.

After our "fine" dining experience he drove us to a hill that overlooked the airforce base and attempted to make a move. For heaven's sake, we're in our twenties, if we're going to get down and dirty it's not going to be in an old Ford Bronco overlooking a barren air force base. He got the idea and took me home.

I'm sure there was a good night kiss, but I must have gotten it over with as fast as possible, as I don't have any recollection of it all. He did ask me out again, this time he'd cook dinner at his house. The house he inherited from grandmother. I wasn't about to turn that down, so I accepted for a second go-round.

The following Friday I showed up at his house. I want to impress upon all girls, that whenever possible to have your own set of wheels at the ready, as they certainly came in handy this evening.

Dinner apparently was inspired by his time spent in the barracks, pan-fried steaks with a heaping serving of Ranch Style beans. Nothing else. We ate in the living room and watched television. Maybe there was a movie on? I don’t recall.

After dinner he decided to show me around the rest of the house, which was a basic 3-bedroom, 2 bath, brick house, just like 100 million others in the south. He takes me down the hallway to see his bedroom. We reach the doorway and he flicks on the light. Oh my, God! He sleeps in a twin-size bed that was obviously at one time part of a bunk bed set. He attempted to pull me in, but I was having none of it. Call me when you get a grown-up bed, mister!

At some point the topic of yet a third date was broached. I don’t recall when or where, but I had no intention of accepting, until that is, he told me we’d be using his season tickets to the Dallas Maverick’s basketball game on New Year’s Eve. “What?” My head spun around in disbelief. Season tickets to the hottest game in town! It would have been rude to say no. Plus, I was still having visions, faint though they were becoming, of the Sniggly Wiggly empire.

I was looking forward to the evening as there would finally be another couple in the mix. I didn’t know them, but fell in instantly with the girl, who was expecting her first baby. We chatted the whole game through, then again at Bennigan’s following the game, where Henry added to his already large consumption of beer. The evening wound to a close and I had to drive us back to Denton. It was New Year’s Eve and Henry wanted to stay the night. He was seriously drunk, so I let him know I had to leave early in the morning to meet friends for the Cotton Bowl Game. Here’s the couch, here’s a pillow, here’s a blanket. I shut my door.

Early the next morning I snuck a quick shower and hurriedly dressed. As it was still dark, it wasn’t until I was cutting through the living room that I realized Henry was sleeping on the floor, not the couch. Come to find out his long, lanky frame was too long for the couch, so he chose the floor instead.

I quickly said “Bye, lock the door behind you”, to the twisted mass of arms and legs on the living room floor.

As I pulled the door shut behind me, I admitted to myself that not even the Wiggly Sniggly fortune and the potential promise of piles upon piles of S&H Green Stamps were worth my time on a not-so-good looking guy, with a boring personality (even after out drinking me, and I did my darndest to numb the pain of the date), and a twin-sized bed to boot.