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I 'm a Nebraska native, a fifth-generation member of a cattle ranching family. After finishing a Bachelor's, I moved to Washington Heights in Manhattan with five other Nebraska natives, all of us opera/theatre/ music types. I'd been doing the "starving artist" thing for a while, but the culture shock (and sharing an apartment with five guys!) was pretty intense. Plus, I was dating someone in Boston at the time, and many a weekend was spent dragging my overnight bag down the length of crowded Canal Street to the Chinatown bus (a trip on the Fung Wah only cost $10 at the time).
It was either my first or second trip back to Manhattan from Boston that I shared a seat with my future husband. I was one of the last to board, and I now remember seeing only one open seat, which happened to be next to the most gorgeous man I had ever seen, Hollywood included. (And of course, today of all days I had been in too much of a hurry to do more than throw my hair into a ponytail and smear on some Chapstick.) I asked if the seat was open, he moved his bag, and we rode to NYC for a while in silence.
I'm not sure now which of us spoke first (him to ask the time, me to comment on the beautiful fall scenery - it was my first time seeing the colorful New England autumn). Soon, we were chatting eagerly and easily. I learned he was a Massachusetts native, an MIT grad working on a PhD in Physics and a former high school teacher. (Not bad for a then-24-year-old!) He also was an actor and a member of a commedia dell arte troupe, which performs a type of comedic theatre from Italy pre-1600 with musical interludes. He happened to have a book with him about visual art from this kind of theatre, and he seemed to take as much delight in sharing it with me as I did in looking. He was very excited when I told him I sang opera, and invited me to sing with his theatre troupe sometime. I said maybe ...
It turned out he was dating a girl in NYC, which was why he was on the Fung Wah that day. We exchanged emails (neither of us mentioned phone numbers, as this seemed inappropriate in lieu of our significant others.) We said a friendly goodbye on the A train after arriving, and I doubted we'd meet again.
When I got home, I couldn't wait to tell my three gay roomies that I had met a guy whose long dark curls and chiseled features put Tom Welling to shame but even more apparent now was what seemed like such a genuinely warm, wonderful inquisitive and kind person. Of course, this was only from spending five hours on a bus with someone I d only just met. Somehow, though, I couldn t get over that there was just something really special about him. I vaguely remember thinking what a lucky girlfriend he had.
We did exchange a few emails, maybe five or six, over the next year-and-a-half. These emails consisted mostly of hey, I m doing this show in Boston/New York stop by if you re in town. Then, newly single in dismal February, and not having heard from my bus buddy in months, he wrote to say, 'Just figured I'd check in and make sure you weren't eaten by porcupines', and to tell me about a professional production of Dido, Queen of Carthage he was doing throughout March. I responded that I would probably not be in Boston anytime soon, as I no longer had a boyfriend there, but that I was playing piano for a show in Times Square in April and would he be in town then? His prompt reply said that he no longer had a girlfriend in NYC, and therefore would probably not be in the city anytime soon. Weirdly, we had both become single on the same day.
We began emailing daily. One day he casually dropped his phone number as a P.S. I did likewise emailing daily was soon joined by phone calls and a visit from him to see my April show
It was truly love at second sight. From the first day of his April visit, we have become inseparable. Aaron and I finally share life in the same city, are engaged to marry, and today nothing seems worthwhile until I've shared it with him. My Prince Charming was brought to me not by a majestic white steed, but by the Fung Wah bus and two years of emails. It couldn t be more perfect.
*****
P.S. The book he shared with me that day on the bus was a library book; on the two-year anniversary of our bus ride, he gave me a copy inscribed, "May the next eighty years be as wonderful".
P.P.S. I have finally performed with his theatre troupe!
By Anna
For the Juneau Empire
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