As a little girl, I had romantic visions of meeting my prince charming that involved love at first sight and a fairy-tale life complete with a white picket fence. But by the time I was in my early twenties, I had been through a series of unsuccessful relationships that left me feeling disillusioned about love. I was beginning to think that there was no ‘Mr.Right’ for me, and I was certainly not comforted when people told me that I would meet him when the time was right. I had been taught that you can’t just wait around for things to happen, you have to grab life by the balls! But I didn’t know where to begin looking for him, and I had grown tired of waiting for fate or chance to drop him into my lap. So I kept busy working on an undergrad degree at university and waitressing part-time at a quaint café downtown Toronto. After a night of drinking at a local pub, I woke up for work hungover and late, so I quickly threw myself together and ran up the street to catch the streetcar downtown. I saw one at the stop ahead, and I knew if I could catch it, there was a good chance I might still make it to work on time and avoid yet another lecture from my kind but stern boss. I made a run for it, knowing full well these drivers normally don’t wait (they’re on a schedule after all, and being late was my own damn fault), but I was hopeful anyway, and by some miracle the driver held at the light even though it was green! When I got on, I was so relieved that I thanked him profusely
and as I caught my breath, I found myself gazing at a bright smile and gorgeous blue eyes!
I nervously sat down, but felt compelled to say thanks again before getting off at my stop. We chatted briefly about how he is on this route Sunday mornings for a few weeks, and as the streetcar drove off, I decided dreamily that Sunday was my new favourite day of the week, I could hardly wait for the next one! I did not stop thinking about him, and when the next Sunday rolled around, I was waiting bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for my streetcar driver. The next couple of weeks went by in a bit of a blur, as I gleaned bits of information about him during my Sunday morning commute to work. As I was getting off one day, he hurriedly explained that the following week would be his last day on this schedule (which I took to mean that if we didn’t exchange information next time, we might never see each other again), so it was time to take life by the balls. Then, before the next Sunday, he made a seemingly small, but highly frowned-upon mistake while driving that would normally have resulted in a temporary suspension! But fate was on our side that day because the supervisor had mercy on him and let him off with a warning. When his streetcar pulled up to the stop that last Sunday, I was filled with nervous excitement and as I stepped on, I asked him for a transfer. He knew what I was up to because I was a metropass holder and didn’t require a transfer, so he handed one to me and said “If its for what I think its for…!” I smiled sweetly and sat down to write my name, number and a happy face on it, even though I typically don’t give out my number or have the confidence to pursue people. But that day, I was not going to leave my life up to fate, and now, almost ten years later, he still has that transfer with the little happy face on it. It is faded and torn around the edges after being carried around in his wallet for most of the last decade. And now I see that fate and chance played a role in it all, but not without a little help from me and a little smiley face. 🙂