How I Met My Wife
And all that ensued
Sometimes, that teenage crush can turn into a lifelong love affair. In this “From Our Readers”story, Phil Perkins tells the tale of meeting the “very cute, petite teenage girl,” Sandi, who became his wife of many years.
Long, long ago in a land far, far away (well Portsmouth, Ohio … and yes, I know I’ve used that line before) a teenage boy met a very cute, petite teenage girl. In this particular case the boy didn’t resort to using a “line” to get the cute teenaged girl’s attention. But I digress.
First the back story.
Young Sandi was spending a summer weekend visiting her friend Susie (also a cute petite girl) in another community nearby. The community had its own school district and its own community pool. Susie invited Sandi to spend the weekend days at her pool. Sandi readily accepted.
The two cute petite teenage girls were minding their own business, soaking up the sun and listening to the Rolling Stones and Hermann on the sound system at the pool. They happened to notice a tall and tanned young teenage boy sitting up on the lifeguard stand (look I have this image in my mind, let me have this moment). His eyes seemed transfixed on them. Susie thought it was kind of creepy. Sandi thought it was kind of interesting, or so she said later.
In due course the two girls entered the water for a swim and the boy in the lifeguard stand noticed that the girl named Sandi floundered just a bit, but only a bit. The boy’s name was Phil (go figure).
Sensing an opportunity, Phil jumped down from the lifeguard stand (he could do that sort of thing in those days) and entered the water to introduce himself. Striking up a conversation with the two girls, he offered to teach the visiting Sandi the fundamentals of swimming. Both Phil and Susie stayed tightlipped about the fact that they actually knew each other and the fact that Phil wasn’t really a lifeguard. To this day Phil doesn’t know why Susie didn’t give him up and it’s too late to ask. Maybe she saw something in the making. Thanks, Susie.
The lessons proceeded as you might expect, mostly involving young Sandi doggy paddling, supported on the surface of the water by Phil’s outstretched arms. Think the opening credits of the original (and only in my opinion) Magnum PI … or not.
Of course, eventually the real lifeguard came back from his lunch break and Phil’s cover was blown. However, by that time Susie had suggested Phil join them back at her house later that day to listen to records and get to know each other better. Phil thought he hit the jackpot. (Author’s note: Boy, those were simpler times, weren’t they? Phil did manage to hold Sandi’s hand that evening, but they had to hide that small sign of affection from Susie’s mom.)
After that you would have imagined that Phil would have called Sandi and pressed for a real date. Nope. I’ll bet you thought he was anything but shy, right? Well, he wasn’t normally shy, but for some reason, he grew very much so when it came to Sandi. He admitted later that he didn’t want to blow a good thing.
So, for that time anyway, all he could do was write her a letter telling her he’d like to see her again. They exchanged letters a few times. Finally, the cute, petite teenage girl called Sandi had had it and wrote him back saying “enough with the letters, give me a call.”
You might think the rest was smooth sailing, and I guess mostly it was. Sandi didn’t like Phil’s half-restored MGA roadsters that he insisted they take on dates, calling one of them “cardboard and rust.” Phil wasn’t thrilled with the chumminess of some of the male friends at her high school. But things got ironed out.
Of course, you know by now this Phil guy was/is me (if not, go back to the title).
Looking back, maybe it was better that I wasn’t the real lifeguard. After all, I think it was actually my friend Butch, and he had to work that evening while I had my first “date” with my future wife.
Susie is gone now and we didn’t know it until recently. That happens too often these days. Wherever you are, Susie, thanks again for not betraying me. I’m in your debt.
It all worked out for the best.
P.S. Sandi can swim now.
Phil Perkins is a writer, business owner and musician who lives in Richmond and on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, with his wife, Sandi, and two pups named Skippy and Jeter. He is the author of several business books, novellas about a legendary surfer in the 1960s, and novels about a retired detective living in the Lowcountry.
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