In honor of Valentine’s Day, I figured I’d share the story
of how Tim and I met. The first time we met was NOT the kind of moment that romantic
movies are made of. The very first time that we met was at a bar. I was there
to celebrate a coworker’s birthday and he had tagged along with his roommate. It
turned out his roommate was also a coworker of mine who I didn’t know (large
company). All the details of the night
are not clear (perhaps it was due to the vodka) but a conversation between Tim
and I was quite clear. It turned out that we had gone to college in the same
city only a few miles apart. I made a wise crack that he was a geek due to the
college that he went to. In turn, he said that I must be “easy” because of the
college I went to. Now although I did start the name calling, I think it’s a
pretty basic rule that you don’t call a girl that you just met “easy.” So in return,
I called him an asshole and we parted ways.
That was it, end of story, right? Apparently, the dating
gods decided to give us another chance and almost two years later we re-met at
a Fourth of July party. We hadn’t seen, heard, or even thought of each other
since that night. It actually took me a while to place him and figure out why
he looked familiar. He only vaguely remembers our first meeting at all. This
second time, it was a hot summer day filled with lots of drinking (boy, were we
young and living life back then!). Tim was there with his same roommate and I
was there since it was a good friend/coworker’s house. Turned out Tim and I
were currently living in the same town and only a few miles apart. In all
honesty, I wasn’t super excited to give him my number when I left the party. I
was busy being single and given our two (drunken) meetings, I didn’t think that
I really wanted to go down that road. Turns out giving him my number was one of
the best decisions of my life. Who would have guessed that the guy whose
friends were throwing 4th of July firecrackers out his car window
would be the one I share all my secrets with, the one who I would marry, the
one who would witness the birth of our three children? Who would have guessed
that the jerk (my thoughts then) that called me “easy” in a bar would end up being
my trash taker-outer, my bug killer, and my rock? So I guess my advice for all
the guys out there would be to be careful who you call “easy” because us easy
girls have a way of catching you hook, line, and sinker – for life!
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| Young Love, 2003 |
