Melanee always thought I first met her at Safeway, where we both worked. Technically, that’s true, but the ACTUAL first time I saw her was when I was walking past a balloon shop called Helium Roses in West Seattle. There was this very cute girl, approximately my age, with an amazing smile. I didn’t know her name or anything about her, but I certainly noticed her.
So when I started working at the Jefferson Square Safeway, I was pretty surprised to recognize that same amazing smile behind the deli counter. I was working as a helper clerk, stocking shelves and doing whatever else needed to be done. I quickly developed a particular enthusiasm for stocking the soda aisle, which just happened to be right next to the deli. Pure coincidence, of course. Nothing whatsoever to do with the cute girl working behind the counter. She would occasionally catch me looking over and let out a little laugh. Apparently, I wasn’t nearly as subtle as I thought I was.
After working as a helper clerk for a while, I volunteered to move into the seafood department, where I learned a ton of new skills. I loved cutting up halibut, salmon, trout, and whatever else came through. One of the less glamorous parts of working in a grocery store was dealing with the garbage at the end of the day. The deli had a particularly nasty arrangement where all the waste went into one large can, creating a sludge that sometimes weighed more than one person could comfortably lift. As long as I didn’t have any customers, I was always happy to lend a hand when the deli needed help hauling it out. Especially when Mel was the one asking. Funny how willing a young man can be to deal with disgusting garbage when there’s a pretty girl involved.
One day, I was riding the freight elevator down to the lower storage area. This wasn’t some little elevator, either. It was big enough to fit a car inside, and there were pallets stacked along one of the walls, about ten feet from the door. I stepped in, turned around, pushed the button, and started my trip downstairs, completely unaware that Melanee had slipped in behind me and hidden herself behind those pallets.
About halfway down, she launched her attack. She jumped out from behind the pallets, let out a yell, and slammed her feet onto the metal floor at the same time.
Holy. Shit.
I’m pretty sure I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I jumped straight into the air and somehow managed a complete 180 degree turn, going from facing the elevator doors to facing Mel. I’m six foot seven, so this was no small accomplishment. If I hadn’t recently relieved myself, I’m fairly certain I would have done so right there. I can neither confirm nor deny that a certain amount of gas escaped my butthole during the maneuver.
Mel absolutely lost it.
And I don’t mean a little giggle or a polite laugh. I’m talking about a full blown cackle, the kind that starts somewhere deep inside a person and comes pouring out with absolutely no concern for appearances. She laughed so hard she started snorting, which only made her laugh harder. She couldn’t talk. She had to grab onto the pallet to keep herself upright, and every time she managed to catch her breath, she’d look at me and start all over again. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone enjoy scaring the shit out of another human being quite that much.
By the time the elevator doors opened, we were both laughing pretty hard. I gave her one of those looks that says, Okay, you got me good. And she had. There was absolutely no arguing that point.
I don’t think I ever lived that one down, either. Before the end of the day, she’d told most of the store what happened, and apparently everybody thought it was hilarious. I was one of the biggest guys working there, and Mel was one of the smallest. David had just scared the living hell out of Goliath, and she wasn’t about to let anybody miss the entertainment. She would tell that story for years afterward, often pairing it with my infamous no film in the camera incident. Those two stories were practically a double feature whenever she had an audience.
Mel wasn’t constantly playing practical jokes, but when she decided to pull one, she appreciated a good setup. She wasn’t necessarily interested in instant gratification. She could wait for the right opportunity, sometimes building a whole backstory around whatever she had planned. That was part of what made her so dangerous. She was creative, patient, and unpredictable, which is a pretty concerning combination when you’re the intended victim.
I think that’s what made her sense of humor so much fun. You couldn’t always see it coming. She might be going about her day looking perfectly innocent, and somewhere in the back of that head of hers, a plan was developing that nobody else knew about. I’m not suggesting she spent every waking moment plotting ways to torment me, but I certainly learned that an innocent smile wasn’t necessarily proof of innocent intentions.
And when something genuinely struck her as funny, she didn’t hold back. That cackle was unmistakably hers. If the snorting started, you knew things had gone completely off the rails. At that point, whatever had originally made her laugh was almost irrelevant because she was now laughing at herself. It was pretty damn hard not to join in, even when you were the poor bastard responsible for providing the entertainment.
Looking back, one of the things I loved about Mel was that she was willing to be ridiculous. She could be serious when life called for it, but she also had this wonderfully mischievous side that made ordinary moments memorable. She could take something as mundane as a ride in a freight elevator and turn it into a story we’d still be telling decades later. And the laughter that followed was just as much a part of her as that beautiful smile I’d noticed the first time I saw her.
I started out volunteering to stock the soda aisle because I wanted another glimpse of that cute girl behind the deli counter. Somewhere along the way, that same girl decided I was worth sneaking up on in a freight elevator and scaring half to death.
Apparently, that was her way of flirting.
I probably should have taken it as a warning.
Instead, I married her.