I'll call him Schmark

He was born in Uganda. His parents were missionaries. I met him while I was waiting tables in a Midwestern college town. He wasn't my type. Blond, long-haired big guy--well-built. I preferred dark-haired, light eyed, shorter men. He didn't have a pretty face. Not that I was into pretty boys, but he wasn't, well, what I would consider attractive, physically.
I was short. At 5'3 1/2", I was the shortest in my family. Mom, Dad, 5 siblings and me. Dark-haired, bluish-green eyes, a fit farm-girl physique. We jump started our relationship one cold drunken night. I remember being in the back seat of the head bartender's car. The bartender "Brother Bart" (since he was one waitress's big brother, but he acted like he was all of the staff's big brother) was the owner/designated driver of the car. After offering to drive us home, he learned that I lived not in the actual 'city', but a near-by town, Reefton, from which I biked to work. Neither Schmark nor I owned a car. "Reefton? You want me to drive all the way to Reefton?" Schmark said, "You can crash at my place." "Okay." A bunch of us had been playing a friendly game of poker earlier and I, being a very amorous drunk with a friendly/flirty nature, and Schmark, being a man, well it wasn't difficult to predict what would happen next. "Are you sure?" Brother Bart asked several times. Making sure he asked me directly. With a resigned sigh, and his big old dark brown beater car warmed up, he pulled out of the parking lot and drove us to Schmark's place.
He lived upstairs in a loft/studio apartment of sorts. As I walked up the steps I noticed a big wooden pizza paddle hanging on the wall. I remember asking suggestively, "what will we be using this for?" A big futon on the floor was his bed. He had a sound system next to it. He played Suzanna Vega's album for me. At the time, she had but one album. His foreplay included the best oral sex I've ever received. Gentle, sweet and playful.
That was 23 years ago. Schmark's long gone. He died 16 years ago. But I remember him fondly on this Memorial Day weekend, because his memorial (he was cremated) was on Memorial Day weekend.