“I think I’m having a panic attack!” April confided in me.
April is not the type of girl to freak out easily. For me, she was a breath of fresh air. Finally, a woman that can take care of herself and a person who didn’t “need” a man.
But she had a weakness (don’t we all?). She gets random panic attacks.
On our first date, she explained, “I was having a total panic attack waiting for you in the restaurant parking lot. I wanted to leave. As much as I didn’t care, I didn’t want to unimpress you.”
“Why? If you didn’t care, why did you still freak out?”
“I’m not sure.” she said, “I just thought you were a different, out of touch, person. I was afraid of you.”
But our first date went pretty smooth and it developed into a full blown relationship that I will admit was the most satisfying one I’ve ever had.
April was tough, very confident, and didn’t need to be reassured. She held her own.
One time in a karaoke bar, some guy was flicking the lights on and off.
I could tell she was irritated, so without asking her, I got up and asked the guy politely to stop.
Surprisingly (mostly due to the fact that he could bench press me in his sleep) he obliged.
April said to me, “You just saved that guy an ass kicking.”
“I was about to rob him of his future children.” It turned out April was epileptic and had a low tolerance for patrons fidgeting with the lights.
So back to why April was freaking out. April is definitely a woman, and a woman most men can’t handle. Not because she’s a girly girl, but because she doesn’t do the standard things to impress a man. In fact, she could care less, and that’s perhaps one of the biggest things that attracted me to her.
On this particular night, she decided to dress up. Not to impress me, mind you, but because she “wanted” to. She looked absolutely, drop-dead, gorgeous.
But because of her panic attack tendencies, and her desire to look her best, she was now freaking out.
She was wearing black platform shoes. Shoes she has owned for many years. And on this particular night, the toe portion of the platform decided to break free.
If she would have attempted to walk, the front of the shoe would have separated and made it impossible to walk. To get out of this bar, she would have to either go barefoot, or have me carry her out.
For a person prone to panic attacks, you can imagine that every scenario was going off in her head.
“Oh my God, the gross bar floor on my feet. What if I step on glass? What if people laugh at me?”
Without hesitation, I told her, “Don’t move, I’ll be back.”
I ran out to my car, opened up my trunk, and pulled out my toolkit. Inside the toolkit was a roll of black electric tape.
Once inside, I sat down next to her and said, “Give me your foot.”
She was still freaking out and put her foot (enclosed in her broken shoe) on my knee.
I ripped off a long strand of electric tape and began wrapping the broken front portion to the rest of her intact shoe.
“Try standing up.” I said.
She stood up, and I shined an L.E.D. light on her shoe so she could see the result.
“Wow, you can’t even tell.”
Her black platform shoes matched perfectly with the shade of electric tape.
April’s panic attack went away quickly. Although not the type to show emotion, April confessed, “That was probably the most romantic thing a guy has done for me.”
I laughed, “If electric tape is all it takes, then you’re the perfect woman.”