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Playmaker
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Megan was a Canadian librarian way wiser than her 18 years. I met her on an exchange program towards the end of 2007. I adored her Canadian-French accent, which worked well, since she had a weakness for schoolboy French.
I first came across her while seeking some philosophical texts – Spinoza, actually. She was into him too. We talked for a while about his theories while I yearned to avoid turning his theory that we are all part of the one substance into a foundation for seduction…..but I did. Game on.
After a few hours, I enquired as to her perspective on enrichment of the human character. She said that it was confusing, as it seemed to point to cannibalism. I told her that ingestion wasn’t the only way to accomplish what Spinoza was getting at...It was all in the delivery, trust me. She laughed and told me that she was 'aware' of that. She wasn't shy.
I suggested spending some more time together. Dinner dates are for suckers. We went snowboarding for an afternoon. She was actually pretty good and suggested we did some backcountry riding, which happens to be my idea of heaven.
Those couple of hours riding in the Canadian backcountry were some of the most exhilarating of my life. If you've never floated along on powder, I utterly implore you to. I was that taken with it that I didn't see the hefty Canadian fur with which I squarely collided.
There I lay, on my back staring at the blue azure. Megan rode up and jumped on me playfully, asking me if I was ok. She lowered her head slightly as I looked up at her and smiled. Resisting the clichéd response, I reached up and enclosed her cheek in my gloveless hand.
From there it was just...natural.
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070127
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