Cock Robin and Ms. Tiggy Winkle: Meeting on the Wharf

Tiggy's reply to my admission that I had discovered her identity was thoughtful and charming:

From: "Tiggy Winkle"
To: "Cock Robin"
Subject: Re: A Tiggy by any other name ...
Date: Sun, 7 Oct 2007 10:46:53 -0700

Tiggy Winkle arose with the sun's rays, as was her habit. She waddled off to the local coffee shop to buy her morning herbal brew, talking to various neighborhood cats upon the way. She could hear the sea lions barking in the distance, the familiar smell of salt in the still chilled air. The barest silver cresent of the moon shone in a sky of the palest of robin egg blues...

Back at her tiny cottage, she futtered about while other's slept, getting together belongings, dusting the furniture, changing cat litter & putting away the night's dishes. She decided to check her messages before pruning the roses.

[My email to her included a link to my personal website]

"Oh, my!" Her eyes grew round, "What a big...

She busily clicked through the pictures, roses quite forgotten, noticing Robin rowing gently down the stream, playing with the cat & the Fiddle, ... .

She realized her trembling was not due to the caffeine she had just imbibed, but a strange mixture of emotions, especially after viewing the lovely Mrs. Cock Robin, whose golden locks and smiling [countenance] looked very pleasant indeed. What was she supposed to learn from this? Tiggy wondered.

Ms Winkle fretted for a moment and decided to go meditate. She found herself questioning her own integrity, journaling upon intentions, and at long last coming to many satisfying conclusions about her nature and that of the universe.

At last at peace, she could now focus on pondering the deepest question that now seemed to preoccupy her entire being:

"What should I wear tomorrow?"

Picking up her clippers, she moved into the garden, humming a little tune...

... our date was still on.

Monday October 8, 2007.  We had agreed to meet at 5:15 pm, at the end of the Santa Cruz Wharf.  Even leaving work that early, traffic through Silicon Valley is very slow so I allowed plenty of time.  It was about 4pm when I changed clothes at work and got into my car.

I was in the lane to get on the freeway when I realized I'd left something in the pocket of my other shirt, which was now at my desk.  Should I go back?  Well this was our first date; almost certainly I wouldn't need it.  I continued and merged my way onto the crowded freeway.

The slow and go traffic down Highway 85 seemed to take forever. Finally I merged onto Highway 17 for the trip over the hill down to Santa Cruz. For a mountain road, 17 can be very fast, especially on the downhill side. Over the summit, I found the curves exhilarating and relaxing until 17 straightens out in Scotts Valley and becomes yet another freeway. Off the highway, into Santa Cruz, and make my way through town to the Boardwalk area. It was around 5pm when I parked my car on the wharf and walked to the end.  Choosing a bench from which I could see people approaching, I sat and waited.

The sun was still well up -- it wouldn't set until 6:42 -- but evening low clouds were lurking just outside the bay and the day was cooling fast.  The wind was rising and I couldn't help shivering a little.  Moonset was to be at 5:30, but the slender crescent was invisible, low in the hazy sky.

I saw a woman approaching and I knew it was she, still about 25 yards away, coming down the wharf directly toward me.  I rose and walked toward her.  She was petite, about 5' 2", dark hair just below her shoulders, and she looked younger than the portrait on her web site.  I would have believed she was 31.  Tiggy wore a broad smile.  And she was so cute!

Cuter, in fact, than I expected.  For a few moments, worries crept up my spine that she'd be disappointed in me.  Almost violently I shoved those destructive thoughts aside, and strode on with something like confidence.

We were about five yards away when she called out "It is Apollo!" and made a reference to the sun.  I blurted out "Can I help you with your skates?" a reference to her AFF profile.  And then we met.

It was quick hug, but warm and friendly.  Not tentative.  We seemed to agree at once that we liked each other.  Any discomfort I had was gone.

We talked and sat on the bench, talked and walked on the wharf, talked and looked out over the ocean, for almost an hour.  I have no idea what we talked about.  I gave her a gift: a copy of The Tale of Tom Kitten by Beatrix Potter (the bookstore had been out of The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle).

Our restaurant, Olitas, is near the end of the wharf. A little after 6 we climbed the stairs, out of the wind, and were seated by the window to enjoy the sunset.

It was natural and comfortable.  Tiggy looked beautiful in the golden light of the sunset and I was drawn to her like a fish to water.  I couldn't help touching her hands whenever possible, it was the most natural thing in the world.  We didn't drink much, two glasses of wine I think, but our lives poured out.

As we left our table, I began to regret the lack of that which had been left in the pocket of my other shirt.

The sun had set and it was quite dark when we left Olitas, strolling down the pier toward the Boardwalk, where we were going to play miniature golf.  The wharf was still and dark, the noise and neon of the Boardwalk shone across the harbor waters, and we had just walked past my car when I said to Tigs that I would very much like to kiss her.

When she answered, "Okay," there was no hesitation.


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