Is there a problem me love?
It was the summer of '73. I was 19, a freshman at McGill University in Montreal. I had joined a student exchange group to meet new people and practice my language skills. And then it happened. Her name was Katrina. She was tall, blonde and Swedish. And like a hot Sahara wind she tore into my safe and boring life and turned it upside down.
We''d met at a campus mixer. I'd seen her across the room, gorgeous long blone hair, a radiant smile that could light up a room, and large grey-blue eyes I found myself quickly drowing in.
She took my arm and asked if I'd like to go on a 'picnic' the following afternoon. I was floored that she found me attractive - me Mr. Geek complete with glasses, pocket protector and requisite cardigan sweater. I said sure, that would be great. In fact I would have gladly run barefoot over broken glass if she'd asked.
I didn't sleep a wink that night, running the scene over and over again in my head fantasizing about all the incredible things Miss Sweden would do to me. Then I'd admonish myself for being so foolish. Of course the 'picnic' was to be a group affair. We would be joining others for a nice respectable afternoon, munching on sandwiches while discussing world politics and the events leading up to the Yom Kippur War.
The following morning seemd to drag on like molassas. We'd agreed to meet at the far end of the football field where a path led off into an area of shadded trees.
At the appointed time I'd parked my beatup VW near by and started walking across the field towards the uprights. The sun was in my eyes. A light breeze brushed my face carrying with it a hint of her perfume. I'll never forget the scent of "Love's Fresh Lemon". Katrina was alone. Like an angel approaching, the sun had back lit her hair creating a brilliant corona about her head. She was dazzling, wearing a white lace cotton frock and carrying a picnic basket in her hands. Her smile was intoxicating. Somewhere deep in my virginal heart a song of joy rang out.
We drove to a secluded spot near a small brook and spead out a blanket under a large oak tree. Katrina unpacked the basket. I watched her long, smooth fingers work quickly as she placed a variety of meats, cheeses and fruits on two paper plates. Then I spotted the wedding ring. My heart skipped a beat.
She saw the look in my eyes and placed her hand on my thigh.
"Is there a problem my love?" she wispered.