GuysterRules (guysterrules) wrote,
GuysterRules
guysterrules

The first snow

I opened my front door last night a little earlier than usual, around 7:30, to a toasty warm Bob who met my arrival with his moans and groans of approval. I kissed his dry black nose repeatedly and stood there, with my coat on, rubbing and hugging him in a communion that bordered on the odd. It was bitter cold out last night, and I knew Bob would be facing temperatures far below anything in his life. We ate first, him in the kitchen and me in front of the TV with an episode of The O.C., and then I bundled up and tried to brace Mr. Slobbers for what he was about to experience. I didn’t do a very good job.

He had pep in his step until we opened the outer door and a cold gust hit him with a slap. He looked up at me with confusion and contempt then he looked to the ground, shook his head in disgust, and carried on with our march down the street. We arrived at the neighboring park, a little triangle of land housing a statue of Hahnemann, the father of homeopathic medicine, and hordes of rats that scurry around the bushes. The ground was so icy; Bob did his show pony dance and he looked miserable.

“Come on, B., let’s go home,” I said, and we both trotted back to our building.

We were lying on the couch, watching as Ryan and Luke discover Luke’s father kissing his male business partner, when I started to hear tiny little thumpings on the window. I thought it rain but I turned my head and found the sky covered with a blanket of white. I got up and stood at the window, watching the big fluffy flakes gently making their way to the ground only to disappear as soon as they arrived. I looked back at Bob as he slept on the couch and said, “Look, Bob, our first snow!” He didn’t look up. I sat back down, and hugged him and warned him of his walk the following morning.

I paused the TV, catching Seth in mid-smart aleck, and I said out loud, “Look, Honey Bunny, our first snow.” The Memory Cab came by at that moment to pick me up and take me to our first glimpse of snow in New York in 1993. We stood on our 33rd floor balcony and watched the city slowly become covered in the quiet white. Billy leaned over the railing to try to catch a snowflake on his tongue. “Be careful, Dummy Guy,” I said, grabbing his waist. We were standing there, in our socks, and we kissed.

It was one of those moments we had that could have only happened in New York. It was one of those moments that only happen when you have the Guyster by your side.

The Cab dropped me off, back on my couch, and I reached to pet the still sleeping Bob and I told him how much I loved him. He stirred at my touch and I started to cry. It was a random moment, one of those that I should be able to absorb with less impact by now, but it was also a moment where I really wanted my Guyster’s kiss. Right then, right now.
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