Wonder Kid

He was a spectacle and everyone was looking at him. Someone in the coffee line said he was RCA's new industrial designer; a wonder kid, they said. RCA pursued him until he finally said yes. My first impression was negative. We was wearing red slacks with a multi-colored shirt and he wore his hair in a ponytail. He was slender and effeminate and I assumed gay.

It was 1987 and Dale was history. Even though I was drawn to men who were aloof and secretive and controlling and could not, would not love me completely and unconditionally,  I was done with the pain and suffering this type of man brought to the relationship. For as long as my memory went back in time, I had felt unlovable. Some "thing" was wrong with me. Some "thing" kept me from finding the love I so desperately wanted, needed. Yet, I was attracted to these men who confirmed my unlovability.  Except for Chuck, my ex-fiance, who was controlling and doting, I had never been attracted to nice, attentive men. There was no chemistry for men who sought me out, treated me well, doted on me. They could be my friends but nothing more.

Every morning I saw Wonder Kid in the cafeteria. Every day he had on another hideous outfit. It didn't matter to him that you never, ever wear stripes and plaids together, or that you don't mix pink and red. He broke all the rules but I guess it's okay when you are the Wonder Kid, the designer who is going to single handedly save the Design Center from humdrum, boring television designs.

One morning WK was in the cafeteria line behind me and he commented on my outfit: I was wearing black slacks, a white shirt, suspenders, and a tie. Yes, I was wearing a man's tie. He liked my outfit, he said. I looked up at him as I accepted his compliment. For the first time I noticed how handsome he was, but young. Too young for me and besides, he was gay. But yet, there was something about WK that interested me. Maybe we could be friends.

We had the same coffee-run schedules and everyday WK and I would pass each other, smile and say "Hello." One day, after complimenting me on my outfit--I couldn't reciprocate because his outfits were outrageously awful--Wonder Kid, seven years my junior, asked me to go to lunch. Thus was the beginning of my platonic friendship with a gay guy, except for one thing.

Wonder Kid was not gay and the relationship that began that day at lunch was not platonic. It started with a kiss. He leaned over and kissed me and something happened. It was just a kiss but yet it switched me immediately from not interested to very interested. WK was the exact opposite of Dale in every way: not a manly-man, not distant or aloof, not controlling, not evil. But...but...but...

You knew there would be a "but" didn't you? You're so smart. That's why I like you so much. I like smart people. Wonder Kid was very smart; I like smart. I said that already, didn't I? He also had a great sense of humor and I had missed that humor with Dale. WK adored me, doted on me, made me feel special and lovable. But...but...but...

There's that but again. Dang that but. Wonder Kid and I dated for two years; he never cheated on me once. He gave me full body massages, cooked gourmets meals for me, ran errands for me, ran my bath water, and painted my toenails. He couldn't do enough for this woman he loved so much. But...but...but...

There was this one reoccurring nightmare I had during the two years WK and I dated: I was walking down an aisle in a church all by myself. People were turning in their seats to look at me; they were smiling. Ahead was a pulpit with a preacher standing behind it. Then I saw WK next to the preacher. He was wearing bright purple slacks and a shirt with orange polka dots. Didn't he know you never mix purple and orange, especially when you're getting married. GETTING MARRIED!? Oh, no! Oh, no! I can't marry WK. STOP THE WEDDING!! No way! Not gonna happen! Nope!

I didn't break up with the wonder kid. He broke up with me. He said I couldn't give me what he wanted, and he was right. As much as I liked WK, I didn't love him. And so, one day he said, "It's over," and I was devastated. I don't do well with rejection. Even though I knew this day would come, I was crushed. But by the time I got home that night, he had changed his mind. It wasn't over; I was relieved. Acceptance pushed rejection aside. The next day at work when he saw me it was over again. Rejection. Devastation. A day later when he had heard someone had asked me for a date, we were on again. Relief. Rejection gone. Two days later, we were off again. Rejection was back and so was a long period of sadness. I missed the affection, the doting, the tender moments that came with the wonder kid, but...but...but... WK had issues--lots and lots of issues, and those I wouldn't miss.

One day, a few months after Wonder Kid broke up with me, a photographer hired by RCA to take photos of televisions and remote controls peeked into my cubicle (I was working as a spec writer in the Design Center) to ask politely if he could borrow my hands for a photo shoot.

Goodbye Wonder Kid. Hello Photo Man.