As far back as I can remember, Labor Day weekend always felt like a time of transition to me. It was the weekend that summer turned into autumn. True, according to the calendar, there were still two weeks to go, but its seemed as if, this year, Mother Nature was reading my mind and adjusted the weather accordingly. Having routinely endured 90-degree temperatures in the final weeks of August, it was a relief when the clouds moved in and cooled the afternoon air down to the mid-70s. Yes, summer was ending and the beginning of another school year was not far off. I knew that within a few weeks, the leaves would begin falling off the trees and I would again be hard at work writing reports and studying late into the night.
At 19 years old, I was starting my first year of college. I had enrolled at the local community college without any long-range plans, hoping that by the time I had my Associate's Degree, I would figure out what I wanted to do with my life. That would be two years down the line, though, which gave me plenty of time.
The first Saturday of September, I reasoned, might be a good time to go stock up on school supplies. That morning, I pulled myself out of bed and thew on my trusty Barenaked Ladies T-shirt as well as a well-worn pair of tan cargo pants. Looking around, I assessed the condition of my current supplies. The battered notebook I'd used throughout my high school career was held together with duct tape and had clearly seen better days. My supply of pens had run low, and my backpack—well, the less said about that, the better. A new one was definitely in order. I knew I'd need a good graphing calculator for my math courses, too. I drew up a list for myself and set off for the mall.
Pulling into the parking lot, it seemed that everyone else in town must have chosen the same day to do their shopping as well. The lot was jam packed, and it took me at least ten minutes to find a parking spot, which must have been at least a football field away from the closest entrance. I walked through the door of the large superstore and made my way for the school supplies aisle. I loaded my basket with pens, a ruler, found myself a good calculator, got a sturdy notebook, and plenty of paper. I even managed to find myself a decent backpack. Only the calculator remained, and I knew my best chance for that would be the office supply store at the other end of the mall. After double-checking my list, I headed for the checkout counter. The clerk smiled effervescently as she efficiently rang up my chosen items. Before I knew it, she had thanked me for my numerous purchases, and implored me to come again soon.
A trip from one end of the mall to the other took me through the food court. On most days, the food court was busy, and today was no exception. The lunch rush seemed as if it was just letting up, and I noticed a smattering of empty tables. As the aromas from close to a dozen different eateries reached my nose, I realized that I really hadn't eaten much before leaving home that morning. Suddenly, a slice of pizza from Milan's, the Italian eatery, sounded very good to me.
I walked past Burger Express, Cheesesteak Heaven, and Thai Grill over to Milan's and stood in the shortest-looking line. Apparently I was not the only one who felt like pizza, as four other customers waited ahead of me. Since I already knew exactly what I wanted, I took the opportunity to scan the food court. I immediately noticed a woman seated by herself at a table about 25 feet away. She seemed to be looking right at me and smiling. I quickly tried to recall if I knew her from somewhere. She didn't look much older than me, certainly no more than her early 20's. Did I maybe know her from school? Nothing jumped out at me, so I turned back around. A minute or so later curiosity got the better of me, so I again turned around, my eyes sweeping the dining area. The same woman was still looking in my direction and smiling. Did I know her, I asked myself again. I smiled back at her just to see what would happen. To my amazement, her smile became wider and she waved at me.
"Sir?"
I waved back.
"Sir?" a voice asked behind me, louder than the first time.
I wheeled around. The cashier behind the counter was trying to get my attention. The customers in front of me had all ordered their lunches, and it was my turn. I ordered a slice of pepperoni pizza and a large cola, then proceeded to pull five one-dollar bills from my wallet to cover the cost. While my drink was filled, I quickly glanced behind me at the woman who had been conspicuously eyeing me. She looked up from her lunch just as I turned around, our eyes meeting for the third time. This time, I decided to wave at her. She waved back at me. I decided then that I would try to sit with her. This made me nervous, since I was usually extremely shy around women and had little experience asking them much of anything. But, I told myself, this woman—whoever it was—had gone out of her way to be friendly toward me, so what's the worst that could happen? Grabbing my pizza and cola, I made my way back toward the tables. She continued to beam as I approached.
"Hi," I said, summoning quite a bit of courage just to force out that lone one-syllable word.
"Hi there," she replied, continuing. "Your shirt caught my attention. I'm a big Barenaked Ladies fan myself. It's always nice to run into a fellow fan." Ah, so that was it. The shirt! I'd forgotten completely about it! Her face fell as she shifted her gaze toward the floor. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in sitting with me, would you?" She seemed extremely nervous to ask me that question, though it made me more relaxed, since I no longer had to broach the issue.
I began to speak with more ease. "Actually, I was just going to ask you if I could sit here. You smiled so nicely and seemed so friendly while I was over there in line."
Her face lit up once more as she saw me lay my tray of food down on the table and sit down across from her.
"By the way," I continued. "My name's Ed."
"Hi, Ed. I'm Katie," she said.
I took a moment to look at Katie, thankful that I now knew her name. She was a chunky girl—by no means obese, but definitely curvy and large-breasted. Her brown shoulder- hair was cropped quite short, not much longer than mine. Her face looked youthful. It was somewhat plain, but radiated every time she smiled. A tan Pearl Jam T-shirt covered her large chest.
"It seems you've got good taste in music too," I finally said, gesturing towards her shirt.
"Thanks," she replied, blushing. We spent the rest of the meal talking about the bands we liked and the concerts we'd been to. It turned out that we had both seen Barenaked Ladies the last time they'd come through town.
Katie finally asked me what was in the bag at my feet. I told her about my shopping expedition and how I was starting college in just a few weeks. She told me about her job at the grocery store and how she shared an apartment with her best friend, Ellen.
"I hate to end this, but I really need to get to work now, and it sounds like you've got some shopping to finish. Can we do this again tomorrow?" She genuinely looked crestfallen at having to say goodbye, and I confess, I didn't want it to end either.
"Absolutely," I quickly replied. "It was great meeting you, Katie."
"It was great meeting you too, Ed. See you tomorrow!" There was that wonderful smile again. She stood up, turned, and headed for the exit, looking back just once. I'm quite sure she saw me staring at her, but I didn't care. For her part, Katie just smiled, waved once more, and then she was gone. Tomorrow suddenly couldn't come fast enough, as far as I was concerned. In the meantime, though, I had a backpack still to buy. Gathering my belongings, I continued on toward the office supply store.
The next morning was cloudy and overcast. It felt as if the temperature had dropped another few degrees from the day before. I dressed, choosing a long-sleeved T-shirt and black corduroy pants. I raced over to the mall, not wanting to be late.
Walking into the food court, I glanced around, my eyes searching for Katie. She was there somewhere, in that sea of humanity currently preoccupied with their trays brimming with double cheeseburgers, burritos, Thai noodles, or—God forbid—the clam chowder at Cap'n Salty's, the seafood joint. A third sweep of the area began to worry me. Katie was nowhere to be found. Was she standing me up? I'd really enjoyed our meeting the previous day, and I hated the thought that it might be a one-time occurrence. With nothing else to do, I stood in line at Milan's again. Might as well have a calzone as long as I'm here, I thought to myself. I turned my attention to the menu positioned behind the cashier.
Two quick taps on my left shoulder caused me to swivel my head in that direction, hoping to finally see Katie standing there, beaming. Just as quickly as they'd risen, though, my hopes were dashed as I found myself looking at empty air. Almost reflexively, I turned back around, looking to my right, and , sure enough, there was Katie.
"Ah, the old shoulder-tap trick," I mused, my face brightening.
Katie blushed slightly, then spoke. "You know, you're a lot harder to find when there's nothing written on your shirt."
I chuckled. "Sorry. I'll keep that in mind next time." I continued. "I was starting to get worried you wouldn't show."
"No worries there," Katie replied. I wasn't going to miss this today if both legs were broken and my hair was on fire."
I exhaled audibly. "That's certainly nice to hear, but wouldn't you be a little uncomfortable?"
Before Katie could answer, the girl behind the counter at Milan's interjected, asking me to place my order. I asked Katie if there was anything I could get her.
