Avery & Gill
Our Story
I. The Writing Center
I wasn’t looking for her when I found her in the Douglas H. Hawkins Writing Center at Hillsdale College. We both worked Sunday nights from 7-10 PM in fall 2018. Most nights few students came, since freshmen visited the Writing Center primarily the night before due dates. Three tutors worked on Sunday nights: me, Avery, and one other student who spent his downtime productively on homework and papers. I spent that time flirting with Avery. I’m sure she had her own papers to write—and many times I saw her trying quite hard to write those papers—but I just kept talking to her. Sometimes I’d do a little reading, but only enough to look busy. Before long, I’d find some juicy tidbit for conversation that I’d toss out to see if she’d bite. And she usually did. Avery and I became friends during those 3-hour shifts on Sunday nights at the Writing Center. Yet I didn’t ask her out that semester. Maybe I didn’t want to ask out a coworker; or maybe I was a coward who thought she’d say no.
II. The Underground Dating Ring
I needed a little nudge. I offered myself up for a kind of experiment dubbed, “The Underground Dating Ring.” It was run by some of my friends with the express purpose of setting up blind dates to make students more comfortable with casual dating. I know—only Hillsdale College would need that kind of help. I didn’t think I was part of the problem, but I wasn’t about to turn down dates I didn’t even have to plan. So I put my name on the list. December 11, 2018, I got an email telling me to meet my date in some random aisle in Purgatory (that’s what we called the second floor of the library). When I found the spot, I saw they’d left a big brown paper grocery bag with a note that read, “A & G.” I spent the next ten minutes (yes, she was ten minutes late) trying to figure out who it was. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure. When Avery saw me in the aisle, she said, “I knew it,” and immediately walked away. I grabbed the bag and followed.
III. The First Date
We found our task inside the bag: “Egg a building and have a picnic.” Not wanting to be too delinquent, we found an abandoned building far away from the town and egged its backside. We went to Stock’s Park—a typical Hillsdale date spot—for our picnic. Instead of spreading the blanket on the grass, we ventured onto the frozen lake, but only after I’d checked it by stomping on the ice with my boots. We emptied our paper bag and found an orange, a chocolate bar, an old newspaper and a sharpie (for blackout poetry), one stick of gum, and some cookbook from the 50s. We took the orange and chocolate and forsook the rest. We talked for so long that my body heat melted the top layer of ice and soaked my red Chinos through, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to stop talking to her. That’s how we spent so many of those early dates in Hillsdale, just getting to know each other by talking, arguing, and laughing together.
IV. The Proposal
I decided to propose late that fall. I was slated to begin Officer Candidates School on January 4th, so I knew I would propose right before or right after. I asked in Washington DC. I took her to a fancy dinner (you know, the cliché part), and then I set up a scavenger hunt (you know, the cheesy part) around the city at the monuments. The issue was that I did all my planning with Google maps from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, so I misjudged the distances a bit: Our scavenger hunt turned into a scavenger half-marathon. With blisters on our feet and tight calves, we ended at the Lincoln Memorial by the reflecting pool. I could tell she knew it was coming; I’ve never been able to surprise her. I got down on one knee, pulled out the ring—and dropped it. It bounced towards the reflecting pool but stopped just short. I was glad I didn’t have to wade through tourists’ spit and goose scat to recover the ring. I caught my breath, I popped the question. She said yes.