I met my husband in right after Christmas in the Dallas-Fort Worth airport. I was coming down the escalator when I saw a tall, handsome Black man with a nice fade waiting for the same flight as I was. He wore loafers and a Ralph Lauren hoodie and carried a laptop backpack.
I thought he was fine as hell, and I wanted to meet him. I sat at our gate a few seats away. When I stole a glance at him, I noticed he wasn't wearing a ring. At the time, I was a reporter in Shreveport, Louisiana β where we were headed β and I knew many of the professionals in the area who were single. I wondered why I had never met him. I kept trying to make eye contact, to no avail. I had to decide whether I would go "reporter" on him and ask a bunch of questions to discover if there was something there.
I asked myself, what do I have to lose? The answer: nothing. So I looked over and asked him, "Are you from Shreveport? I learned he wasn't from Shreveport, was a software engineer, and worked at the nearby Barksdale Air Force Base. He also revealed he was new to the area, didn't have kids, and was single. I was intrigued. He asked me questions, too, and learned I didn't have kids either, was a TV reporter, and was from Ohio. We then boarded the plane, sitting in different areas.
I realized I had no way to contact him. While chatting with the girl sitting next to me, I mentioned how I was intrigued by the guy I just met in the boarding area but feared I might never see him again. She said she had seen me talking to him and suggested I give him my business card. I thought it was a genius idea, and that's what I did when the plane landed.
Five days passed before he did. He saw me reporting a story on the news and called to set up our first date at Cheddar's.
