My First Date with Garry Kasparov.

Hil and I talked the Kasparov proposition over in whispers, while Max was sleeping that night.

"I think you should go." Hilary said.
I bit my lip, shook my head, and looked down at little, sleeping Max. He always looked like such an angel when he was sleeping. White blonde hair,breathing softly through his pretty lips.
"I'll watch Max." Hilary offered. "We'll be fine. It's only a couple of days."
Then I looked at Hil.I was still VERY unsure. She could always read my face like a book.
"When are you ever going to have a chance like this again? Maybe never. He seemed nice. And if things don't work out - you can always call Jamie. Just make sure he gets you a round trip ticket."

Jamie Coulter was our friend in Brooklyn. Our friend from Interlochen. A friend who will enter into another crazy story of mine. (but that's for another night)He was soft spoken and sweet. Tall and thin with a mass of brown curls, and soft, sweet brown eyes. He lived in this neighborhood in Brooklyn that a BUNCH of our friends had ended up in - including Eric Voetburg (who was his room mate) and Chris Earl, and Chris' girlfriend - Chris. Chris and Chris. The two Chris' lived downstairs in the same building.

I couldn't resist. There was something extremely interesting and attractive about Garry. His mind, you might think, but I didn't know much of that yet. It was something else that intrigued me. Maybe his dark, brooding good looks, or his intensity - but no - I don't think it was that, either. It was that one moment when I saw him let down his guard, and his eyes became sparkly....that's what I wanted to see more of.

So, I got on a plane,(first class as promised), and was whisked away to the Plaza Hotel in New York City by a well dressed driver in a shiny black town car. It was only my second time being picked up by a town car - with the guy holding a sign that had my name on it - and I was beginning to like it.
Garry met me in the lobby of the hotel. He was wearing a suit. He shook my hand as if I were a business colleage, and showed me up to my room.It was very nice, and no sign of my having to share it with anybody. He seemed, so far, to be a man of his word.

"Well," he said, when he was satisfied that I was satisfied with the room, "I am sure you are tired from you travels, and might like to take a shower and change."
"Ok. That would be nice." I said, looking at his suit. "What are we going to do?"
"I have thought about this. I think we should walk up and down fifth avenue and do a little shopping."
It was a beautiful day. A PERFECT New York day, and we were right across the street from Central Park. I couldn't entirely hide my disappointment. Garry saw it.
"It is very nice on Fifth Avenue. You will like it. And I would like to buy a watch."
"Are you going to wear that?" I asked.
"Of course." he said, matter of factly. "Shall we meet downstairs in one hour?"
I nodded 'yes'. I hoped I didn't look TOO bummed out. I felt more like his social secretary - helping him shop for a watch in a bunch of snooty Fifth Ave. shops - than a date.
He turned to leave, then changed his mind suddenly, as if he had forgotten to tell me something. He turned back to me at the door, and without saying anything, he put his hand on the back of my hair, gave me the strangest look, and kissed me.

It was the first time he had ever kissed me, and it wasn't shy or gentle at all. It was deep, and hard and intense. And as he kissed me, he put his other hand into the back of my hair (still warm from the sun on the steps of the Plaza) and grabbed it - sort of pulled it softly but firmly. The way that he held me and kissed me felt like he was taking me, possessing me. It was sexy.

He let go of me just as suddenly, and as he whisked out of the door, I felt a little weak in the knees. "I guess he doesn't want me as a secretary..." I thought.
Then I took a long, hot shower. Tried to bring myself right back down to earth.

When we met back up in the lobby, Garry was back to being all business. We started down Fifth Avenue, popping into shops, and looking at all the rich tourists coming in and out of Trump Tower and Tiffany's. I quickly got bored.

"Is this REALLY what you want to do?" I asked him.
"Yes. Why not?" he replied. Once again, he sounded like he was scolding.
"Because it's no fun!" I pleaded. "Look at all these people - it's a bunch of old people,mostly - and none of them look like they are having any fun."
"These are the best stores in the world - the best shopping. We can get you something." Garry said. He looked thrown off his guard that I would have the audacity to question his fun day of looking at expensive crap.
"I don't want anything. How old ARE you, anyway? Do you mind my asking?" (I figured he was 35-40)
Now he really looked thrown off. "I am twenty eight." he said.
"NO!" I cried in complete disbelief. "You are NOT!"
"I am."
"You're only TWENTY EIGHT?"
"Yes."
I burst out laughing. Practically howling. I couldn't BELIEVE it! He was SOOOOO SERIOUS! And only a few years older than me!
"Why is this so funny?"he demanded.
"I don't know!" I laughed - I couldn't stop, even though it was clearly irritating him."It's hilarious!"
Garry just shook his head at me. "You think I am like an old man?"
"YES!" I said. "Look at you. In that suit - it's eighty degrees out - and you're only TWENTY EIGHT! You want to go SHOPPING on Fifth Avenue? With all these...stiff, European tourists? OLD tourists?"
"Well, what would YOU like to do?" he asked me, as if he were asking a crazy person, or a small child having a temper tantrum.
"I am so glad you asked! I would like to go to roller skating in Central Park, or go to the Boat House and rent a boat, or go to FAO Shwarz - there are so many fun things to do here!"
"What is this FAO Swarz?" Gary asked, solemnly.
"It's the famous toy store across the street from your hotel! Didn't you ever see the movie,'Big'?"
"It's a TOY store?" Garry asked, confused and perhaps disgusted.I nodded happily.
"Why would I want to go to a TOY store? I am an adult. I do not have children."
I looked at him expectantly. Maybe he would want to go roller skating?
"No. Toys and skates are for children. We will do this. And then you will dress for dinner.Do you have something nice to wear? I will introduce you to Milos Forman tonight. Perhaps he can help you with your career, IF you do not act like a child."

Ugh. I didn't get it. This guy acted like he was FIFTY EIGHT instead of twenty eight.NO FUN. AND BOSSY. So, as soon as we returned to the hotel, I went up to my room (supposedly to get dressed for dinner) and called Jamie up in Brooklyn.
"Do you have a lot of luggage?" he asked.
"No." I said. "One little bag. I don't even have anything fancy enough to wear for dinner, anyway."
"Good." Jamie said. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

Oh, good gravy! I have to laugh even now, as I remember this. And I am SO glad Jamie and Eric were a part of this story - just so I have a couple of witnesses!
Sure enough, Jamie roared up on his motorcycle to the front steps of the Plaza, I gleefully waved goodbye to the doorman, and we raced across the Brooklyn Bridge and down to his place - where I (we) avoided calls from Garry Kasparov for the rest of the weekend, and had a grand time without him.

The first time he called,however, Jamie or Eric answered the phone and handed it right over to me.
"Hello, Jennifer." the Russian voice said on the phone.
"How did you get this number?" I demanded.
"How do you think?" Garry practically snarled. "You called your friend from the hotel line. It was quite easy."
"Oh." I said. I hadn't thought of that. Should have used a pay phone.
"Why did you leave?"
"Because you are no fun! What good is it to come all the way here for a date if you're going to be bossy, and grumpy and act like an old man and be no FUN?"
"I am fun."
"You are most certainly NOT fun."
"Because I wouldn't go to the toy store?"
ugh. I think this man had half a human brain and half a computer brain.
"I was going to buy you something." he said.
"I don't want a THING. I just wanted to have a fun time with you - we're both young - oh never mind. I have to go."
"You didn't even say good bye."
"Sorry. Good bye, Garry."
And with that, I hung up the phone and we didn't answer any of the many, many phone calls from him for the rest of the weekend.I felt bad. He hadn't done anything MEAN. But I didn't feel that bad. After all, he had been so bossy. Ordering me around. "We will do this. Toys are for children." Hmmf.BUT....that last sentence haunted me. It kept rolling around in my head. "You didn't even say good bye." He had sounded kind of sad. Maybe he wasn't half computer, after all. Oh well, that was certainly the end of him.

I got back to LA, where Hilary and Max were waiting for me at the airport instead of a shiny town car, and I told her the whole story. She loved the part about Jamie picking me up on his motorcycle at the Plaza Hotel.

A few days later, I came home from an audition, and Hilary had this funny look on her face. So did Max. They both looked like they were about to bust.
"You got a package." Hil said.
"Oh yea?"
"It's from Garry Kasparov!" she said.
"You have GOT to be kidding.I hope it's not a bomb." I was actually a little nervous. I could imagine a terrible letter, with maybe a bill from the Plaza and the airline attached.
"Open it, open it, open it!!" Max shouted as he jumped up and down.
"Alright, alright. (what had gotten into HIM?) Where is it?"
Hilary and Max just pointed to our tiny kitchen where I immediately saw the reason for Max's excitement. It was a HUGE box. Bigger than Max by about 3 feet. Oh my gosh! It WAS a bomb!
"It's from F A O Shwarz!!!" Hilary said, her eyes twinkling."I have had QUITE a time not letting Max open that sucker!"

We all gathered around as I opened the giant box. My heart was racing.
It was a giant 'Gund' bear. A BEAUTIFUL, realistic bear! Just the kind of gorgeous stuffed animal that I always lusted after when I used to go to FAO Shwarz with my Grandmother. The thing was bigger than Max. It was about 5 and a half feet tall, sitting up on his haunches, beautiful, soft brown 'fur'. It was wonderful.
Max threw his arms around the bear and hugged it tight, and stayed on top of it as it toppled over. "It's mine, it's mine!" he cried out joyfully. "He looks like a real bear!"

A letter came with the bear. I do believe I still have it somewhere - but here is the gist:

Dear Jennifer,
I am sending you this Russian bear, so that you will think of me every time you see it. You would not answer my phone calls, so I had no choice but to write to you. And if I wrote to you now and simply scolded you or said harsh things, you would write me off as a "bully" - as you say - and not think of me again.
So, instead, I am sending you the most beautiful thing I could find in FAO Shwarz, in the hopes that my kind gesture will make you feel guilty and terrible about leaving me in such a cruel manner.
I must also tell you that you were right about the toy store. It was delightful, and perhaps I could learn to be more fun, to act more my age from you.
I sincerely hope you feel guilty for several weeks. And after that period of time, perhaps you will have decided that I am not so bad after all, and we can speak on the phone.
You did hurt my feelings terribly, and I was sorry not to have the opportunity to introduce you to Milos at dinner. He was looking forward to meeting you.
affectionately, your Russian Bear
Garry Kasparov.

That letter was more well written than I have indicated here.It was great. And it worked like a charm. I DID feel guilty. I felt HORRIBLE, in fact. I HAD written him off - you know,as just another arrogant chess champion of the world - and with this grand gesture, and wry letter - he became entirely human to me.

I (we) had that beautiful bear until 5 years ago. It always brought incredible compliments, and looked beautiful, without a single rip or flaw, until his demise in the terrible mudslide. Of ALL of the things that were ruined - destroyed forever - THAT was the only possession that I (or any of us) really felt devastated over.

After all, not everyone gets a giant 'Gund' bear sent to them by the chess champion of the world. And I did think of him every time I looked at it - even long after we lost touch.