I still remember the first time I laid eyes on the man who would later become my husband. It was during the first week of September 2004. I was walking through the Newton Institute of Technology campus in Newton, Massachusetts, trying hard to get to my next class, Computer Science 101. I was a freshman and in those early days, I was always getting lost. The campus was big and kind of confusing. Fortunately, I found myself a guide. Like my knight in shiny armor, he came to my rescue. His name was Jake Samson, captain of the wrestling team.
He was something else. Six feet two inches and two hundred and thirty pounds of sturdy, muscular black athlete. With a face models would envy. I've always had a thing for tall men. I'm a small gal, only five foot six inches tall, but fine and pleasantly curvy. My skin is caramel-colored and I got long black hair framing a pretty face and a, lean nice figure. I like pretty guys and this stud was A-okay in my book. He was all that and then some. In that deep voice of his, he asked me how he could be of assistance. I grinned, and asked him where the science building was. He smiled, and told me he was heading that way. Apparently, he was a computer science major too. How about that? And that's how it all began, folks.
When I was graduating from Quincy High School in June 2004, I was really upset at not getting into Boston University. I always wanted to go there. Fortunately, my father encouraged me to apply to his alma mater, the Newton Institute of Technology. I didn't know much about N.I.T. to tell you the truth. Something about it did grab my attention, though. The school had a six-thousand-person student body, and demographically speaking, it was promising. Fifty six percent of the student body was male. How about that? At a time when most colleges and universities in America were overwhelmingly female, Newton Tech was a modern-day boy land. And if Jake Samson was any exemplar of what they had to offer, I was going to like it here.
Jake walked me to my class. His own class wasn't starting for another half hour. It was mighty nice of him to show me around. To be honest, I ended up getting lost afterwards because I didn't really pay attention. I was trying hard not to drool while checking out his fine, muscular body. I slipped him my cell-phone number before I ducked into C.S. 101. He seemed surprised. He shouldn't be. A sexy black stud with a body like his should be used to having young women aggressively coming onto him by now.
