On a warm September morning in 1985, I walked into a local bank to open an account.
After a short time with the new accounts lady, I was all set. As I left the bank, I walked past the desk of a thirty-something, bachelor loan officer I knew from taking night college classes two year’s prior.
He stopped me to say hello and asked what I had been up to. I informed him that I was newly single and had just moved back to town. He said he was sorry to hear that, then asked me for a date for the following night. He even remembered my seven-year old son and included him in the date offer of dinner at a pizza joint and a walk along the local beach. How could I not say yes?
After another ten minutes or so of conversation, I got up to leave. It was lunch time and this guy had piqued my interest. I asked him if he’d like to go to lunch. He glanced at his watch and said that sounded great. We walked across the parking lot to a nice restaurant located in a century-old building that once housed the best hotel rooms in the city. We spent a leisurely hour enjoying a big salad while catching up on the past two years of our lives.
When the bill came, I grabbed it since I had asked him to lunch. He tried a few times to sway my decision as he had always paid when in the company of a female. I did not ask him to lunch to get a free meal and I insisted on paying.
Four years later the banker was no longer a bachelor.
We still joke that he only married me because I was the only woman who ever picked up the tab.
I am telling you this little story because today they tore down the building where we had our first lunch.
It's a little sad. The end of another era in my life.