The Unconventional Guide To Joseph Fine

CHAPTER ONE

"… Babs thought he was terrific, she really did, but
the height thing. Something wasn’t right."

I left a promising career and the States to write a book and find the right woman. Are you kidding me?
After all of the soul searching and cerebral machinations, I took an indeterminate leave, and four weeks later, left New York for Venice on a Friday evening in late April right before a rainstorm hit the area. Venice is always busy, and this gave me a small jump on the tourist season. I packed lightly and brought my mermaid-patterned shirt and cowboy boots for good luck.

It was a mad rush to JFK after slogging through cone-laden streets to the airport. What a relief to be up in the air. For me, an admittedly excitable type, it was almost a moment of calm. I sat back, took a deep breath, sipped my first Dewar’s, and hoped for a smooth ride. So far, so good, right? Well, until a few more minutes passed, and I thought about Babs, and what might have been. Got to stop doing this. That was almost a decade ago.
She was an old flame (that’s a bit of an overstatement) who needed to be air dropped far away. I promise to stay calm while I tell you what happened.

A few weeks after college graduation, Joseph Fine (me, of course) returned from a trip out West with his old friend Jack. He ran into a woman from college named Carrie.

Carrie and Joe used to sit and have coffee after one of his classes. Carrie told her girlfriend Barbara, who she called Babs, that she should meet him. She said he’s cute in an animated, quirky way. A cross between a youthful Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino. He wears tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses which make him also look intelligent. A little bit like the schoolmaster in Goodbye, Mr. Chips. Babs was excited about meeting him.

Carrie didn’t tell Babs that Joe is five-feet-three and one-half. And he is closer to five-three. Or less. Carrie thought it might be a non-starter if she told her. Babs assumed, based on upbringing and hard wiring, that the right guy for her was about six feet or within a couple of inches. Joe did not know Babs was five-feet-five and one-half. He was shy with women in general and especially women who were taller.

Babs meets Joe. She tries to hide her surprise. He is surprised too but finds her worldly and attractive with a sunny personality. Early into the date, Babs doesn’t think she can take Joe seriously. He acts like he is trying too hard. But he’s funny, and she hasn’t laughed so hard in a long time. She thinks about two short guys she knew in elementary school. They were loud and silly and craved attention. She thinks Joe might be different. Babs listens as he tells her about his goals. He’s going to law school to be an environmental lawyer. He wants to make a difference in his career. Little by little she is more interested. Joe becomes more relaxed and self-confident.

The next morning, Babs meets four friends at Starbucks. They want to hear about the date. After they learn about the height part, they’re concerned. One of them asks how she could go out with a guy who is five-three. If that. The others nod. They don’t get it either. Babs pushes back, says she will decide for herself. Yes, there’s his stature, but there is more to him than other dopey guys she’s known. He’s studious but not nerdy, well-traveled, and wants to protect the environment. And, by the way, she reminds two of her friends that they haven’t had much success with guys lately.

These were guys who were tall, affable, young banker types who went to pedigree schools. The girls had to agree with Babs.
Babs goes on three more dates with Joe and has a great time. She is surprised by how happy she feels. But something is not right. She thinks about what the wedding pictures would look like. They look awkward together. When she leans toward Joe as girls do in photographs, she still hovers over him.

Babs has to do something. She tells Joe she is not ready for a serious relationship. There’s too much going on now between her family vacation this summer and graduate school in the fall. Joe learned the real story months later when he ran into one of Babs’ friends. She said Babs thought he was terrific, she really did, but the height thing. Something wasn’t right.

In college, there were extended periods when I couldn’t get a date. Things got a little better in law school. Consciously or not, I limited the potential dating pool to women under five-two. Less risk of rejection. It was hard enough meeting women my own height or less. They also had expectations. It was about time that I had some too. So much for Babs. I am pleased to note that I stayed calm on the plane, and the flight was happily uneventful.

So, I am flying to Venice. It means I’m going somewhere. Maybe even getting somewhere. But I’m getting ahead of myself. What lead to this point?