My Greek grandpa’s narration of the night he met my grandmother.
“Somehow, our eyes met, and she was the most… the most beautiful… red-haired… inspiring and kind… and innocent look. And I was so impressed that I kept looking at her. I was like a… I was… how do I explain? I was stone. I was glass. I didn’t know what to say. I went speechless. She looked back at me like she wanted to say to me something very bad, but she couldn’t speak Greek, and I couldn’t understand English. And my buddies kept talking to Dena, while all my eyes were on Pat. So, speechless as I was, I got the strength to get a piece of paper and a pencil, and with the help of my dictionary, wrote her a message because I didn’t have the nerve or the power to speak to her. So the message was, in my broken English:
‘What you will say if I ask you to be marry with me?’
She took it, looked at it, didn’t know what to say, and passed the message to her friend Dena. And they both got this face like it was a joke. And I looked at her seriously, and I said, ‘Yes.’ Shook my head and said, ‘Yes!’ She didn’t give me an answer. She picked up and left the cafe. I didn’t know if she was mad. I didn’t know how she took it.”