The Night We Met

What follows is my version of the night I met my wife. Her version may be slightly different.

True story.

It hit me out of the blue. I hadn't seen it coming at all. One minute I am having a beer with friends, the next I am head over heels in love with a woman I had never even met. I didn't believe in love at first sight till it happened to me.

She walked behind my perch at the bar and it was like an invisible magnet spun me around and I saw her. It felt as if there was something inside of me that recognized her. Her long blonde hair was bouncing as she walked by and that wasn't the only thing that was bouncing. Wow! Look at those tits.

Of course, she didn't notice me at all. I turned to my friends and said, "I'm gonna marry that girl." And got back the expected responses.

"Yeah, right!"

"Bull shit"

"Way out of your league you loser."

The funny thing is, I didn't want to go out at all. I had sworn off women after a nightmare of a break-up with a woman who really made me consider, for the first time in my life, whether or not life was worth continuing. I wasn't suicidal or anything, but I had decided that I was destined to be either alone or in a miserable relationship, the only two choices I had experience with so far. Of those two choices I had decided that I would be happier alone and to just exist and chill instead of striving to have...ya know...the house, family, career thing.

Good friends will do that for you though; they will drag you out into the world and convince you that you have worth, despite what you have been told. I'm being literal here. They came to my rented room, dumped my hung-over ass out of my bed onto the floor and threatened to drag me to the bar in my boxers if I didn't get dressed. Apparently if you promise an Irish friend that you will accompany him to a bar on St. Patty's Day you must honor that promise no matter how hungover you are. No excuses allowed.

It took a couple of hours for me to get the chance to talk to her. The bar was packed for St. Patricks Day and I lost sight of her. I figured she had left. Then fate stepped in. We were on the waiting list for a table for over an hour before one opened up. When the waitress led us over to our booth I had to grin. My group ended up at the booth next to theirs. Being the fifth man there I had a chair at the end of the table as my friends crowded into the booth.

I eavesdropped on the conversation my dream girl was having with her friends and to my surprise the topic was blow jobs. My courage was high from the many green beers I had put away so I pulled off a move that I, in my buzzed state, considered epic (I still think it was epic BTW). In one deft motion I slid my chair from my booth over to theirs.

"I'm John and your conversation sounds better than the one at my table." I said boldly, "and you are?"

"Lisa" she replied.

Her friends answered as well but I wasn't really paying attention and I think they knew it. She wasn't my type at all. I prefer short, petite brunettes with asses that jiggle and she was a tall, busty blonde. It didn't matter. I was smitten.

I asked what she did for a living and her response to me was to hold up her left hand and say "Do you know how many penises I have held in this hand?" to which I replied "That means you're either a nurse or a whore." That got a huge laugh from her friends, turns out they were all nurses, but she didn't think it was as funny as they did. It was a line she had used to great effect in the past to get rid of unwanted attention.

My charm didn't seem to be working on her but I was determined. I told jokes, no luck. I made clever comments, and got a neutral smile. I asked her to dance, she doesn't dance. Her very attractive, red headed friend asked me to dance instead and I accepted but she seemed disappointed when I didn't respond to her flirting on the dance floor and kept asking her questions about Lisa. I headed back to the table after the dance and although I wasn't ready to give up, I had run out of ideas.

Once again, fate stepped in. Sweet Caroline started playing from the speakers on the wall. At this point I had nothing to lose so I sang along. Loudly. Proudly. They sang along as well.

She smiled at me.

We've been married 15 years.