Dating Cindy Crawford
November 6, 2015 – New York City, New York, USA
“I told you Friday night traffic was going to be a disaster,” Gabe Bussio said to his wife, Natalie. “It’s not my idea of how to celebrate a birthday.”
“You gotta trust me. It’ll be worth it,” replied Natalie.
“And you made me put on a suit. You know I hate wearing this suit,” said Gabe, taking his eyes off the road to look down at his gray, freshly dry-cleaned suit pants.
Natalie had been to the salon and was wearing her hair up. She had on a burgundy-colored dress she had previously only shown off at weddings. “It pays to dress up sometimes,” she told her husband. “You’ll see. Your mind is about to be blown.”
Natalie had been promising a life changing experience ever since she insisted that Gabe come home from work early on his birthday. He had wracked his brain trying to figure out what she was planning and why they had to drive into the city. Some kind of Broadway play? She knew he did not appreciate that stuff. Did she get front row tickets to some kind of sporting event? If that was it, why did he have to wear a suit?
“Just tell me what we’re doing,” begged Gabe.
“Not a chance. I wanna see the surprise on your face. And I know how much you hate finding a parking space, so these directions are taking you right into a pre-paid garage.” Natalie held up her phone, which had been dictating turn-by-turn instructions.
Gabe moved with the traffic into a section of Manhattan occupied by high-rise hotels. He was surprised when the voice on Natalie’s phone ordered him to turn into the underground garage for one of the nicer buildings.
“This can’t be right,” Gabe said. “You put in the wrong address.”
“No, this is it,” said Natalie, happy to see the confused look on Gabe’s face.
“What’s going on? Are we staying here? We didn’t bring any bags.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re not staying here, at least not overnight. Look, there’s our parking spot. By the elevator.”
Gabe got out of the car and looked for clues to explain what might be happening. Natalie led him to the elevator and pressed the button to take them to the floor labeled “Ballroom.”
“Is this some kind of dance?” Gabe asked nervously. “If it’s a dance, I’ll get right back in the car.”
“No, it’s not a dance,” Natalie laughingly assured him.
When the elevator doors opened, they walked into an elaborately decorated hallway with crystal chandeliers on the ceiling and walls painted a shade of gold. Oversized artificial flowers stuck out of vases meant to look antique and expensive.
Natalie walked from the hallway into a reception area for a large meeting room. Gabe caught his first clue as to what was ahead of him when he glimpsed a printed sign resting on an easel. The sign welcomed guests to a dinner for Love Our Children USA. Natalie pulled two formal looking tickets from her purse and showed them to a tuxedo-wearing attendant.
“Thank you,” said the attendant. “You’ll be at table twelve, on the right side of the room. Your names are on the place cards. Feel free to mingle and enjoy the drinks and hor d’oeuvres.”
The inside of the meeting room was filled with circular tables covered in white linen and set for dinner. Groups of dinner guests, wearing suits and gowns, were gathered into clumps while chatting and holding long drink glasses.
“Who are these people?” whispered Gabe, anxiously. “What are we doing here? And what’s Love Our Children USA?”
“Well, if you can’t tell, it’s a fancy dinner. You pay for the food and the money goes to charity. I paid the absolute minimum to get us in here, but it was still, well, you don’t want to know how much. But we’re not here for the food. We’re here for the main event. You’ll see.”
Gabe and Natalie drifted awkwardly to table twelve. None of the other guests paid much attention to them, but if they had, they might have wondered if the pair had stumbled into the wrong room. Gabe glanced around the room like a security guard was going to ask him to leave at any second. He had gained weight since buying his suit and now it was too tight around the shoulders and waist. He wanted to unbutton his collar and his pants.
Each table in the room seated eight people. As the appointed start time for the dinner approached, the other six guests at Gabe and Natalie’s table wandered over and said hello. Gabe ended up sitting next to someone wearing a slick, black, fitted suit and an enormous wristwatch.
“It’s a diving watch,” the well-tanned man explained, when he noticed Gabe staring at his wrist. “It’s guaranteed down to 200 meters.”
“Is that good?” asked Gabe.
“The best,” replied the man. “You do much diving?”
Gabe shook his head and then listed to the man talk about chartered scuba trips. During the diving monologue, waiters in tuxedos delivered plates of salad.
“What are we doing here?” Gabe asked Natalie in an agitated whisper. “The guy next to me is from Connecticut but he spends most of his time out on a yacht. He’s like a James Bond villain. These aren’t the people I would invite to a birthday party.”
“I know, I know,” replied Natalie. “Just eat your food. You’ll understand in a minute.”
Natalie looked around the room anxiously, like maybe someone she was expecting had not shown up.
The main course arrived, which was a small piece of meat surrounded by intricately cut vegetables and a fancy garnish. Gabe was doing his best to appreciate it when Natalie began pounding the top of his shoulder.
“She’s here! She’s here!” Natalie squealed. Her head was turned and facing the open door on the other side of the large room.
Gabe, and everyone else at his table, turned to look. Gabe choked on his bite of meat when he realized who had walked in the door. Cindy Crawford.
“Surprise!” Natalie cried to her husband, clasping her hands together in excitement. “She’s a big supporter of this charity and they said she was going to show up for the dinner. Does she look like she used to?”
Gabe stared as Cindy Crawford moved gracefully into the room, greeting people as she walked. She was wearing a form-fitting red dress and her thick hair seemed to levitate over her head. She was accompanied by a man and woman, who looked like a bodyguard and a personal assistant.
“So does she look the same?” Natalie repeated in Gabe’s ear.
“Uh, yeah. Pretty much, I guess.”
“I thought you’d be more excited,” Natalie replied with a grin.
“I am, sure. I just didn’t think you’d ever want me in the same room as her.”
“I figured I should finally be okay with it,” replied Natalie. “It’s been years and you’re both married. It’s not like anything could happen between you.”
Gabe pretended to chuckle and wiped his forehead. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said to his wife.
“I’m just glad I ended up with you and she didn’t,” said Natalie.
Gabe nodded and smiled almost childishly.
When Gabe and Natalie had started dating, to impress her, he had mentioned that he had gone out with Cindy Crawford. Instead of dismissing it as merely a boast, Natalie had demanded more details. Gabe told her that he and Cindy Crawford had met when he was still in college and she was just starting her modeling career.
“What was she like? Was she stuck up?” asked Natalie.
Gabe added little details about meeting Cindy Crawford’s parents in an ice cream shop and how all the Crawfords seemed down to earth. He and Cindy Crawford dated for four months and almost moved in together. And then her life went one way and his went another. Then they completely lost touch.
During the time when Gabe and Natalie’s relationship grew more serious, her attitude toward Cindy Crawford took a drastic turn. Instead of being interested in what Cindy Crawford was like, Natalie decided she was insanely jealous of her. If someone called Gabe on the phone, Natalie’s first question would always be, “Who is it, Cindy Crawford?” If she caught Gabe glancing at another woman, Natalie would say, “Does she remind you of Cindy Crawford?” When they got into arguments, Natalie would resort to the line, “Sorry I can’t be more like Cindy Crawford.”
After almost twenty years of marriage, Gabe had learned to never hint at anything that could be linked to Cindy Crawford. Still, Natalie brought up the subject plenty on her own. Whenever they met someone new, she would inevitably drop the fact that, “Yeah, back in the day, Gabe used to date Cindy Crawford. But that’s not something we talk about.”
As Gabe sat in the hotel ballroom with Natalie next to him and Cindy Crawford at another table, he could not help wondering if it was some kind of test. Was Natalie plotting something? Had he done anything to make her mad?
Natalie did not look mad. When dessert was served and Cindy Crawford stood at a microphone to express her gratitude toward the guests, Natalie clapped louder than anyone at their table. When Cindy Crawford announced that she would be coming around the room to meet and personally thank everyone, Natalie appeared genuinely giddy.
“I’ll finally get to meet her!” she exclaimed to Gabe.
He gulped in return and tried to match his wife’s excited expression.
As the guests in the room ate their desserts, Cindy Crawford made brief stops at each table. Everyone who got close to her smiled like they were being handed keys to a new car.
“Here she comes,” Natalie said to Gabe, as Cindy Crawford finished up with a neighboring table. “Remember, easy tiger. You’re a married man now.”
Natalie stood up, although all the other guests in the room had remained seated during the table visits. Gabe felt obligated to stand up next to her.
Cindy Crawford walked up to them as if a spotlight were shining behind her. “Thank you for coming,” she said, sweetly.
“We’re thrilled to be here,” Natalie loudly replied. “I’m Natalie Bussio. And of course you know my husband, Gabe.”
Cindy Crawford looked Gabe squarely in the face. His legs felt like pretzels sticks trying to hold up the George Washington Bridge. He knew she had to be starting at his double chin and receding hairline. Gabe’s mouth drooped open, but he did not make any sound. The connection between his brain and his tongue had been temporarily severed.
“I’m sorry, you don’t look familiar,” said Cindy Crawford, glancing between Gabe and Natalie.
“You used to go out,” said Natalie. “When you were just starting out in the modeling business. You almost moved in together.”
Cindy Crawford gave Gabe another confused, searching stare. “Uh, I don’t think so,” she said.
“Gabe, tell her about some of the things you used to do and maybe she’ll remember,” urged Natalie. “Tell her about meeting her parents for ice cream.”
Gabe’s entire head turned bright red. Beads of sweat appeared over his eyebrows as if raindrops were falling from the ceiling. His mouth stayed open, but no sounds came out.
“Well, nice meeting you,” said Cindy Crawford, obviously eager to move on and end what had become an awkward scene.
Gabe and Natalie remained standing until Cindy Crawford had moved to another table and was out of earshot. Natalie sat down, now with her face glowing red.
“I can’t believe she acted like she didn’t know you,” she said to Gabe in a hiss. “Does she think she’s too good for you now?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” replied Gabe, finding his voice.
“She can’t do that to us on your birthday! I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind.”
As Natalie moved to stand up, Gabe grabbed her arm. “No, don’t say anything,” he begged.
“Too late. I’m gonna put her in her place!”
“It’s not true! I made it all up!” cried Gabe.
“Made what up?”
“I never dated Cindy Crawford. I didn’t know her when she was just starting out. I’ve never met her before tonight.”
“What? You made all that up? You’ve been lying to me for all these years?”
“I haven’t said anything about it for a long time. You’re the one who keeps talking about it.”
Natalie slumped into her chair and went silent. She stared at her dessert before turning to Gabe and punching him in the arm.
“I can’t believe you never told me the truth,” she cried.
“It all started out as a joke. I was surprised you believed me. And then, it was like I couldn’t take it back anymore.”
“Think of all the people I told that you dated Cindy Crawford. I lied for you.”
“I never meant for you to do any of that. It was only supposed to be something between the two of us.”
Natalie went back to staring at her dessert and pouting. Gabe tried hard to think of something that would brighten her mood.
“You should be happy,” he said to her. “Now you don’t have to worry about whether I’m secretly talking to Cindy Crawford.”
Natalie gave him a sour look in return. “Whenever I would tell people about you and her, it was like I was in the same league as Cindy Crawford. I married a guy she dated. I got you and she didn’t.”
“You’re still happy you got me, aren’t you?”
Natalie shrugged her shoulders. “Now it’s like Cindy Crawford’s not only in a whole different league than me, it’s like were not even playing the same game. And instead of being Cindy Crawford’s ex, you’re just an accountant from Hackensack.”
“So you were never actually jealous? All this time you wanted it to be true so you could think I was better than I really am?”
“Of course I wanted it to be true.”
Natalie and Gabe sank into a joint sulk. The other guests at their table, who had been looking on as if they were watching a talk show, gradually resumed their previous conversations. As the first wave of guests exited the dinner, Natalie and Gabe followed them.
The couple drove all the way to the Hudson River in silence.
“You can’t be made at me. It’s my birthday,” Gabe said.
“The whole thing was humiliating. Now I’m embarrassed about this big chunk of my life.”
“C’mon, you’ll be laughing about it by tomorrow.”
“You will. I won’t.”
Gabe waited for her to keep talking but she stayed silent. After another minute, he said, “How about if I start telling people you used to date someone famous? Maybe Richard Gere or someone like that.”
“Make it Brad Pitt,” Natalie replied instantly and seriously.
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