They say that you can tell the events that you know will change your life forever.

I have a few of these.

A manager pushing a binder to me across a desk, telling me this was my new project. It took me from Dallas to Raleigh, which took me even further into the snowy folds of Sweden. This was a life-changing moment. I had barged into his office begging for more work and he had just unpacked a binder. If I hadn't have asked for more work, what then? If he hadn't have received the box from Sweden full of binders at that moment, then where would I be?

Something tells me that binder prevented me from finding a nice Texas boy and settling down, living in Grand Prairie of Richardson or something like that, drinking Dos Equis and watching football every Monday. Something tells me that binder led to a lust for foreign food on the tip of my tongue and old cathedrals spiraling in front of my eyes. I have a suspicion that without that binder being handed over, I would never have seen the countries I have seen, I would not have broken and been repaired and would not be settled on this Southwest Train into London I am on today, sore from lovemaking the night before and looking forward to a long weekend in France.

That binder was Event 1 to changing my life.

Last night I turned to Angus during yet another commercial break of my favorite Desperate Housewives. Dressed in pajama bottoms and a worn sweatshirt, I smiled mischievously and turned to him, turning my face up to him.

'When did you first know you were in love with me?' I asked him.

He groaned.

Men love questions like that.

'Oh'¦I don't know. A few months after meeting you,' he answers, patting my hand in an Is-That-Answer-Good-Enough-To-End-This-Torture kind of way.

I smile-I know he hates talks like these, one of my favorite things to do is to catch him off-balance when he's in the middle of something he has to concentrate on (installing lights, reversing the car, building bookshelves) and sidle up to him and wheedle, 'Honey? Let's talk about our relationship.'

When did I first fall in love with Angus?

The answer?

I don't know, actually.

I remember the first day I met him, across a table at Company X. There he was-an Englishman at a table of Swedes. He was sipping the Swedish coffee in a paper cup, and his notebook was in front of him on the table. He had an important job at Company X, a Job I would later take over when he burnt out of doing it too long. I remember thinking he looked strong and angry. I remember thinking that he was someone far more senior to me.

Above all, I remember being hyper-aware of everything he said and how he moved in the meeting.

His recollections of me are a little less stellar. He remembers me sitting there quietly (sulking, he says, but the truth was I was new to that line of work and I simply thought it was better to sit there and listen quietly than open my mouth and say something stupid). He remembers I had a bottle of orange Mer (a type of Swedish juice as I wasn't a coffee drinker then). He remembers Company X had provided me with an ugly dual mode phone. He remembers being told my name and then assuming I was Irish.

The whole world changed in Bangkok some time later. I had just arrived to the conference center-my department was hosting a massive meeting, and I was the first presenter on the first day-so I arrived two days early to get over the jet lag and take a look around. I knew that Angus was coming the next day, so in something highly uncharacteristic for me, I left him a note at the reception asking him if he wanted to join me for dinner. He called me when he arrived, jet-lagged and grouchy, and we had dinner that night with some others in a pagoda, a thunderstorm lashing water everywhere and wrecking havoc on the orchids.

I don't know why I asked him to dinner that night, I only know it was so important that he join me.

Two days, many meetings and Thai beers later, a group of us were out at what's called the Backpackers' Area in Bangkok. Even at one in the morning, the place was throbbing with people. There were dogs running to and fro, stalls with rip-off Levi's, women offering their own personal commerce, and neon lights everywhere. The air was hot and thick with humidity and sin. As we got out of a cab, we had to cross a busy road.

Without thinking about it, Angus reached back and took my hand, holding it as we crossed tik-tik carts and unlicensed taxis weaving dangerously around people.

And it was that instant that I knew that I was mad about the boy.

I swear we crossed the road in slow motion, like some ridiculous Sandra Bullock Hollywood film. Looking down, all I saw were his fingers thread through mine, his profile attentive and watchful of the traffic ahead. It was as though he hadn't even realized that he'd taken my hand, that it was second nature. I felt electric and alive, as through the interlocked fingers were running a current, and that the lights and sounds of Bangkok were turned up just that much more because of it. As we slowly made our way across the street, Bangkok moved in slow motion with us-a hawker shouting about his DVDs a caricature in open-mouthed shouting. A little girl continued to play with a ribbon she had in her hands, and I could hear the soft satin sound it made as it slipped through tiny fingers. The taxi behind us signaled to merge back onto the road and his indicators were my heartbeat'¦tick'¦tick'¦tick.

When Angus let go the world resumed as it was. The taxi shot away and the DVD seller's speech was as fast and garbled as ever. I looked at my hands, hardly believing that they weren't glowing from the electricity. Angus moved on in the crowd as though he hadn't noticed what had happened, but I knew for a fact that something fundamental had happened. The theory of my universe had shifted, and now it included having my hand held by a man who had changed the course of my life in one 5 second burst.

I was mad about him from that moment on. The love came after that, but it came swiftly and with greater power than the gentle currents I had had for others before. The way I felt about Angus was like a hurricane, it reached in and wiped everything out inside of me that had ever been owned by anyone else. He infuriated me, he ignited me, and above all, he listened and paid attention.

Angus taking my hand in Bangkok-an event that lasted maybe 10 seconds.

That was Event 2.

Amazing how something that appears to be a subconscious action can change lives.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 09:25 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
Post contains 1214 words, total size 7 kb.

1 Well, that was one hell of a moment in Bangkok, wasn't it? And a great answer to that question I left in the comments box a couple of posts ago. Thanks. I've said it before: Angus is a lucky guy.

Posted by: RP at May 26, 2005 10:33 AM (X3Lfs)

2 I remembered your question And the first person to sing "One Night in Bangkok" is going to get beaned.

Posted by: Helen at May 26, 2005 11:38 AM (MmtAs)

3 The temptation, when I put my comment in below, was almost too great.

Posted by: RP at May 26, 2005 01:09 PM (LlPKh)

4 I want my own Angus. I want that moment. The closest I've ever come was when someone kissed me on a plane and all I could hear was the blood rushing in my brain. I'm pretty sure that it was just the air pressure causing my ears to pop, though.

Posted by: Lindsay at May 26, 2005 01:24 PM (srIAp)

5 THAT is why I don't accept dinner invitations from female coworkers (not that I get a lot...or many...ok, ok, I've had only 2 in the last 13 years Something as "harmless" as holding a hand to cross the street can lead to something much more. But most people know (and hope for) that when they do it. And I doubt Angus was unaware or "subconscious" when he took your hand. If I took the hand of a pretty woman (yes, that is a compliment who had invited me to dinner, I would be heart poundingly aware of it.

Posted by: Solomon at May 26, 2005 01:35 PM (k1sTy)

6 And the first person to sing "One Night in Bangkok" is going to get beaned. Awwww - that's a REALLY old song. How many people could possibly remember that? :-)

Posted by: Clancy at May 26, 2005 01:50 PM (JxYJc)

7 You bitch. I am so crying right now, deliriously happy for you. That you have that moment, that Angus reached back, that you weathered the storms to this time, this day. (((HELEN + ANGUS))) (Couldn't freaking resist. If we had a yearbook, I would SO be signing it 'See younext year!' under your pictures as 'best couple')

Posted by: Elizabeth at May 26, 2005 03:26 PM (MYWvr)

8 One Night In Bangkok...that made me laugh out loud because that was the FIRST thing that popped in my head. However, I will refrain from singing because I really don't like being beaned in the head. That aside, I love the way you write. You suck me right in to my mental image and I can feel it all.

Posted by: Tif at May 26, 2005 04:22 PM (jCFyL)

9 Helen, Your prose is so much better than Benny Anderson, Tim Rice, and Bjsrn Ulvaeus all put together. And the delivery rivals Murray Head. Your life is like a show with everything but Yul Brynner.

Posted by: Brass at May 26, 2005 05:01 PM (6TLEO)

10 I think theyre called tuk tuksÂ… ;-). And the moist and temperature do set the right mood.

Posted by: Miguel at May 26, 2005 05:04 PM (zQpqc)

11 Thanks for answering the question of "How did you and Angus get together??" After Bangkok, how long did it take for the two of you to live together in England? Yes, I have an inquiring mind.

Posted by: Azalea at May 26, 2005 08:38 PM (hRxUm)

12 So in essence Cupid worked via a ring binder folder? Man, that kid's got all the moves.

Posted by: Simon at May 27, 2005 03:22 AM (GWTmv)

Hide Comments | Add Comment