|From that same Facebook group of old local photos, this one of a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary by having a fancy dinner at the fancy local hotel, and wanting a photo of the occasion with the owner and her "valet".|
When I was 18 I got my first job, working in the summer at a resort mountaintop hotel. The hotel was 100 years old and built by a lake. It was beautiful up there, although I was a stupid teenager who grew up in similar beauty and was still too immature and inexperienced to appreciate it.
The year after I worked there a major movie company appreciated it enough to set one of the biggest romantic comedies ever filmed there. This was a small town and many locals were extras, and when the movie was shown in theaters they all crowded in, dressed in formalwear to celebrate the once in a lifetime event, and yelled THERE I AM when they saw themselves onscreen.
That was kind of adorable in retrospect, but I wasn't a part of that.
William was hot. He was 25, an older man!, and I was the shy teen who had never had a boyfriend and had never been kissed. He was outgoing and friendly and flirty with everyone. I didn't know what it was, really, but we had chemistry. I would leave the front desk to run get a Coke from the machine, see him in the hallway, and end up talking to him for a half hour.
No one ever said anything to me about it, I was honestly surprised when they declined to hire me back the next summer.
He had tan skin and black hair and dimples and a very Southern accent. He was a local but had been hired by the elderly owner of the hotel. She was kind of a cranky old woman, and he said his job was to walk around with her holding onto his arm while pretending like she didn't need anyone to help her walk around.
They got along great, though. She was really something, she got along with no one in the dining room except the the one server whom she referred to as her "red-headed Negress". It's a mystery why more people didn't find her charming. But William could see through it, and would joke with her and make her laugh.
She had her own regular spot at the best table in the dining room with a view overlooking the lake, and they had cut a chunk out of the bottom of the table to make room for the throw blanket she'd have over her lap. She was fairly famous locally as the owner of the hotel, and the daughter of the original owner.
He was a farm boy who had been working as a busboy the year before, and she liked him, so she hired him and that was that. She put him in three-piece suits, and there was something infinitely hot about this man who had bulging muscles (from clearing rocks from a field by picking them up and throwing them into the back of a Farm Use pickup truck, he was amazed that people would pay to work out in gyms) who would kill time standing in the lobby, lounging around like the redneck that he was, smoking cigarettes and holding them like joints, in those expensive dark suits and pristine white shirts with French cuffs. I swear his eyes were black.
He was actually very sweet and gentle with me, and even though he was never in love with me and never my 'boyfriend' I am not sorry to say he was my first. I swear he is the reason I love to cuddle, and also the reason kisses that taste like beer still turn me on.
We actually kept in touch for years, I saw him again a few times after I went away to college, but unfortunately now I've lost track of him.
I kind of love how they are looking at each other in the photo, oblivious to those people having the special occasion and being so impressed by her that they wanted them in their commemorative photo. I love how his head is bent toward her, and you can see the lit candle on their table.
This Facebook group and its photos from the past are really messing with me now.