Monday, 8 June 2015

How I Met My Husband (Part 2)

Did you miss Part 1? You can see it here!

I made it most of the way through Mass without being too distracted. We finished the Our Father, and it was time for the sign of peace. M and I hugged, as was custom among my group of friends, and I turned to greet those in my general area... only to discover that the gentleman I’d met earlier had chosen the pew behind me. I started to offer him my hand, only to have him offer his arms in a hug. I went with it—not something I would typically do! He was a charmer.

Mass ended, and M and I took our time leaving the cathedral. When we got outside, there once more was the same friendly stranger.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m visiting the city. What are the best places to see?”

“We’re actually visiting, too,” I said.

“Cool. We should explore it together.” And before I knew what had happened, I’d given him my cell phone number, and he’d texted me so I’d have his.

We parted ways, with me trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl. After all, I’d just graduated (granted, I intended to go back in the fall to do my philosophy BA equivalency, but that’s not the point)! Of course, despite how blatantly obvious he was (and he was!), I still had to check with M that he was interested in me and not her. He was.

In surreal triumph, we travelled back to the apartment in my friend’s rented Mustang, with my hair kept mostly in check by my mantilla in an oh-so-Audrey Hepburn style. We waltzed inside, and I’m pretty sure I did start giggling like a schoolgirl.

“So I think I just got picked up by a guy at Mass,” I announced. And the friendly interrogation began.

The next day, I spent far too long playing the part of the demure lady and awaiting a text from my mysterious prince charming. Eventually I got rather sick of that bosh, and sent him a message. After some back and forth, we agreed to meet for dinner at a local restaurant. It was time to start primping for what would be a rather... unorthodox date.

Let me pause my tale for a moment to tell you a few things about me that are relevant here. First of all, I did not know the city very well. Like, if you had dropped me in front of the cathedral such that it was staring me in the face, I probably could have pointed to it and said, “hey, there’s the cathedral”, and that’s about it. Second, I have a very poor sense of direction. Like, if you had dropped me in front of the cathedral such that I was pointing away from it, and told me that it was right behind me, I probably would have given you a blank look and asked, “hey, where’s the cathedral?” Third, I had been on very few dates in my life up to that point—in fact, I think I could count them on one hand. And fourth, I am by nature a very timid person and assume all other people are potential stalkers or serial killers until it has been thoroughly demonstrated that this is not so.

And that’s how I ended up dragging two of my friends along on my first date with my eventual husband. (Oh yes, I did.)

To be continued...

(If you are reading this, please spare me a Hail Mary or another prayer of your choosing. Thanks.)

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