Winnie Cooper - Episode 2

For those of you who don’t regularly keep up to tabs on the whimsical writings of Pen15, let me catch you up to speed…

In episode one, I met Winnie Cooper from “Wonder Years” (aka Danica McKellar) at a Kinko’s in Burbank where, sadly, I was employed. Somehow, she was able to look past the apron and toner war paint on my face and saw the real me. In a nut shell: We meet, we chat, I walk her to her car, I hear my adult voice reflecting back on this moment 25 years from now, I acquired her contact information. That’s where we left off.

We emailed a few times. Nothing too major, just general “how ya doin”s to and fro. Then it went cold until one fateful day where I was allowed to step beyond the velvet ropes to glimpse inside the “Former Child Star Lounge”.

After months of silence, I got an e-vite to her birthday party. My initial reaction was that it had to be some sort of mistake so I knew had to play this cool. The e-vite did not ask for an RSVP, but I still didn’t want to show up without giving her a heads-up…what if she doesn’t remember me? But I also didn’t want to RSVP too early, because that would give her the opportunity to awkwardly un-invite me. So I decide to RSVP the day of the event. This gives her notice that I will be there and gives her no time to recant. Fifteen minutes after sending my RSVP email saying that I was looking forward to being there, she emails back, “Looking forward to seeing you!” Hmm, maybe I was invited after all.

I run out to the store to buy a broom and some duct tape…

Wait...I suppose I should back this up a step. At age 29, her birthday party was a broomball game. And that may not sound very odd to the many Minnesotans reading this, but it’s pretty strange to play boot hockey in temperature-controlled Los Angeles. She rented out the Culver City ice arena and evidently; she does so EVERY YEAR for her birthday.

I have all my gear, I put on my best shirt and I’m ready to use my Minnesota skills to dominate, Sydney Crosby style. Frankly, I’m pumped to crush Fred Savage into the boards and say something witty like, “Mole!” or “Way to go, Butthead!” or “I’m one of 13 people in the world who own ‘The Wizard’ on DVD!”

On my drive to the arena I get in a fight with my girlfriend over the phone about my intentions of not just playing hockey in boots, but also knocking them with Winnie. We decide to break up, and I calm myself to prepare my entry to the arena. As I walk through the door, I see people of all ages…6 to 66…and it quickly becomes clear that this is a family event. Somehow, I got invited to Winnie Cooper’s family birthday gathering.

No Fred Savage, no best friend Paul (aka Marilyn Manson), no brother Wayne, no other brother that was killed-off in episode one of “Wonder Years”. Just me, Winnie and the family. But the game must go on and it did…awkwardly.

I could never read Winnie’s facial expressions and this night was no exception. Do you remember that look she used to give Kevin where you weren’t sure if she was going to kiss him or slap him? Well, that wasn’t acting. That’s how she looks all the time. I never knew if she hated my guts or if we were about to throw the birthday cake off the table and do it right then and there.

I stumble through the hockey game, meet the family, give a half hug to Winne and I go home. I sent her a thank you note for the invite to the party but again, I don’t hear from her for several months.

When out of nowhere, Winnie emails me an invitation to attend a play she is in, indicating she has left an extra ticket for me at the box office. I tell her I’ll be there, and on my way I stop at Target to buy a new nice shirt, since she’s already seen my only nice one. When I arrive, I’m a bit alarmed to see that the play is “The Vagina Monologues”. If you haven’t seen the play, the title does not mislead: It is 2+ hours of a woman discussing her…um, womanhood.

Arriving a few minutes before curtain (no pun intended), I find my seat and discover that the woman sitting next to me has been waiting for my arrival. I recognize her smiling face from broom ball as Winnie’s mom (her real-life mom, not her “Wonder Years” mom). The next two hours can be described as uncomfortable at best as Winnie laughs and cries about her labia while I share an armrest with her mother.

That evening changed a lot of things for me. I would liken it to being a male gynecologist: It sounds great in theory, but in practice it’s pretty gross.

After that, I never really heard from her again. I’ve dropped her occasional emails just to say hello, but she doesn’t respond. I’d like to think that she changed her email and she never receives them. Or she just doesn’t have the courage to respond because she’s madly in love with me. But even if I ran into her on the street, I’d never know because of her powerful, impossible to interpret stare. I read recently that she’s married now and is pregnant with child. A child that will no doubt confuse an entire generation of men in the same way her mother did.

Here’s to you, the love of my life, Winnie C!