It's more like a Jane and Rochester thing.

I spent part of my sheltered life in Marquette, a beautiful port town in the U.P. on Lake Superior's shore. Marquette is a college town and easily divisible by unofficial districts. One such district is the Village that runs up 3rd street to the college. None of the locals call it the village, but there are signs and the college kids took them literally. The Village is home to a selection of quaint shops and a funeral home, a couple of bars and some small eateries. It is in one of these eateries that our story takes place.

Togo's was founded by two NMU graduates and was bought by the current owners family when Tom and Gordon decided to go to California where there are hundreds of franchises. Togo's is famous for its subs. Other than a handful of sides and a salad option, that's all they do. I worked there making sandwhiches for two years before I had to move back to Traverse City. Togo's employed a lot of college students, four regular full time adults and the owner's son. The owner, Kathy, was delightful. She was a bit highstrung somedays, but that goes with owning a business. The manager, Cassie, was reserved and highly focused which made people think that she was ornery. For the most part the college students were divided into two camps. There were the regular heathen kids. And then there were the three of us who went to the Christian fellowship.

For the most part, there was little animosity. The only time the religous line was barbed was when one of the fellowship girls offered Bible based advice. As part of that faction, I probably should have taken the same position. But I happen to know that quoting Bible verses to people who don't read the Bible is fruitless. The same advice can be given without the verbal footnotes and it sounds more like a concerned friend talking than some busybody preaching. I had already heard of this divide before I went to work there. So I was quite nervous when I started.

It was a night shift and I was afraid that I would get stuck doing deliveries in a town I still didn't know. The shift comprised most of the partiers who were also band mates and a physics major. I was intimidated to be working with mostly guys. The physic major's countenence emitted a superior confidence and disdain. He was 6 inches shorter than me and I felt like a toddler in his presence. He let Jeff know that he wouldn't work with me, right in front of my face. Of course I felt challenged. And of course I made it my personal mission to make him have to deal with me. Jeff must have agreed that the pm's position was ridiculous. Within the hour I was permanently attached to the pm when Cabe started deliveries and Jon went home because we were too slow to keep people. "It's nothing against you personally. But I've had enough of your kind. If I wanted to be preached at I'd go to church."

And that's the way things went for the next three nights. On the second night the pm, Ethan, made deliveries. Jeff decided to have a talk with me. "I don't like this." Nice preamble. "I can't stand working with those girls because everything has to be a constest to see how loud they can squeal. I won't be evangelized either. But you have to quit walking around he like we are going to devour you. I've never seen anyone more nervous." And then I relaxed. We were joking around by the time that Ethan came back. He was livid. I don't recall what had set him off. But he was less happy to find that while he was out we settled the great "Who gets to Go Home" debate. Ethan was stuck with me the rest of the night since he refused to deliver more food to ungrateful people. And on the 3rd night, Jeff Imp of the Perverse decided that Ethan and I were to be sown at the hip. We were delivering together.

During the whole trip, Ethan kept giving me unsolicited saftey advice. Don't leave the money bag in the car. Don't carry it visibly. Don't look down at your feet etc... and if anyone approaches you throw the bag at them and run. If they catch you... ad nauseum. When he found out I couldn't drive a stick the night was over. Jeff let us stay inside. And we talked through the quiet evening. And from that point we didn't stop.

I said before that Ethan was 6 inches shorter than me. His crystal blue eyes hid behind thick nerdy glasses. Black hair hung artlessly from the center part. It was a very businesslike hair cut. His face was pocked with deep pores. He rarely smiled. My first impression of him was of an Igor. He did his job. He had his friends. And you knew if you weren't on that list. He didn't really like anybody. So I thought. He walked with ramrod straight posture and at a brisk clip. So when he started to talk to me when we worked night shifts, I was particularly honored. And when he told me why he was talking to me instead of continuing to ignore me, I was stunned.

I don't know exactly what I said or what I was responding to. But I made my statement with some vehemence and a good deal of sincerity. And it rather put him in his place. And that impressed him a little. But what impressed Ethan the most was that it was a quote from Star Trek, complete with the episode number and title and a short contextual backdrop (for Jeff who was not a Trekkie). Ethan hadn't expected that from a good little Christian girl because most churches in the area were on an anti humanism kick and considered Star Trek to be the novement's training program. I had won him over. During the next few weeks we became more partnered than the average coworker in any business.

We worked most of the day shifts when school was in session because he had a light shedule and I was not attending. My main duty was food prep. I sliced meats, cheeses and the veggies. But mostly I was stuck slicing the steak because all the cow blood didn't gross me out. The slicer station was the hub of conversation. Breaks were eaten at the pposite side of the table from the slicer. I got to talk to everyone. And when Ethan was on break, we talked Trek. Pretty soon we were playing trivia, trying to stump each other with nitpicking Trek details. And we succeeded admirably. I knew nothing about the mechanics of the ships or wht laws of physics allowed the imagination to dream up these things. He had no concept of how the characters were intertwined. It became obvious that Ethan wuld have to teach me some science basics. At least it was obvious to him. And then Cassie started letting us break together. So we sat together, completely unaware of anything but our discussion. After a few months it finally happened. Ehan smiled.

It was so unexpected that when it happened all I could do was stare. This coarse and sharp edges countenence cracked wide open with a broad, gleaming smile while his eyes danced. My reaction drew attention to us, Ethan told me later. His whole face radiated the kind of warmth that I had hoped was under the surface. "You should mile more, it's absolutely beautiful." He didn't even blush, he didn't blink. He just looked right through me and said something about smiles being contagious and not wanting a cure. I didn't get it. "You smile so much," he said, "I felt left out."

During this time, Kathy made Ethan a shift manager. Everyone was betting that he wouldn't last very long. They were his friends. And they thought that he would fail! They were counting on it. I did everything in my power to make sure that didn't happen. And we drew closer.