the night we choose to remember.

2 Jun

the night i met my husband i was wearing what might be the most unflattering and inappropriate outfit ever. if possible, i find the memory of this outfit more embarrassing than bra head al, so i share it reluctantly:

hello poofy gold skirt and backless tube top at a formal event.

sometimes i wish i had decided that this blog was about lying, not honesty. lies are your friend.

if you can believe it i was wearing this dashing ensemble to attend a graduation ball at my university. terrible poofy skirt? a tube top? really? to make it worse, as a well endowed girl gravity was (is) not in my favor – and the tube top was backless. jesus, i need to sit down.

regardless of my impressions now, in my haze of 4 1/2 years ago i thought i was quite possibly the best ever.  awkward tan and all.

anyway, every 20-something knows it’s crass to show up to an event sober, so my friends and i had planned on attending a ‘pre-drinking’ party before the graduation ball. it was at this charming little gathering – dressed like a pirate hooker – that i met my future husband.

but let’s back up for a quick sec. at the risk of sounding like a total jc-esque [juan carlo – the bastard lizard] creeper i need to tell you that while this would be the first time i’d meet him, this wouldn’t be the first time i’d seen him.  my university only had about 8,000 full-time students and because we were both in the commerce program, i had caught sight of  him a few times.

honestly folks, he was totally ‘that guy’ on campus for me. each time i had seen him i had stared awkwardly while telling myself to forget it:  he was obviously a football player, obviously into 5″2 110 lb blondes and obviously a total jackass.

flawless logic – obviously.

so you can see why when i quickly scanned the room upon my arrival at the pre-drinking gathering, i noticed him right away.

he was  hanging out in the back corner of the kitchen with a football buddy, and i could hear them making fun of people and cracking ‘anchorman’-themed jokes from afar. making fun of people? i invented making fun people. so i downed some liquid courage and went over to chat with them.

and much to my surprise it went well! i was being hilarious, he was laughing at said hilariousnsess – and my boob hadn’t fallen out of the inappropriate top yet. all around aces.

but something was still bugging me. stereotyping had never failed before so what was this guy playing at? where was the football a-hole underneath his suspiciously nice exterior?

after more chatting at the graduation ball  i had an unfortunate realization: i was really into him –  and it wasn’t even the several million vodka tonics talking. he had been nothing but charming, kind, interesting, sarcastic, witty, confident, smart – and i dug it. a lot.

despite my inside voice (head, not indoor) telling me to run like mad, i pressed on.

as the ball was winding down he casually invited me out to a bar with a smaller group for further dancing and drinks.  i thought this was a good sign – he must be digging me too.

but  shortly after our arrival at the club my jock-ahole-tiny-woman-loving fears were confirmed: he disappeared!

that bastard – he had obviously found someone hotter, skinnier and drunker than me that he felt would be less work to hook up with that night. theory proven – kablamo – he was a jackass!

a while later as i was quietly fuming in a corner  he had the nerve to find me and ask if i wanted to go get pizza. (inside voice said: his hotter-skinner-drunker plan b fell through and now he wants to take you home with him.) so, naturally, i sweetly said sure and told him to get his coat.

as he wandered through the crowd in the direction of the coat check, i did the only i could think of: i left him there.

and thus, kind readers, concluded the first night i met my husband.

(to answer your lingering queries: yes, i really did leave him at the bar. no, i am not a giant bitch all the time. yes, my behavior only further intrigued him and now we’re married. for real.)

of course,  we have laughed about this ridiculous night on many occasions.  he’s given me hell for abandoning him (saying “i really just did want pizza you know – i was hungry!”) and i’ve reconfirmed my second impression of him a million  times over: he truly is just an exceptionally sweet, genuine, hilarious and well-intentioned dude.

and as much as i hate to admit it (because it makes me sound painfully dull)  i knew from that first night – you know, the night we choose to remember – that he was it for me.

so all of this is to say happy birthday dear husband – without you i’d most definitely still be in someone’s dingy apartment, in a horrible outfit, drinking vodka and quoting ‘anchorman’. so thanks instead for our awesome life together.


21 Responses to “the night we choose to remember.”

  1. Husband June 2, 2011 at 8:41 pm #

    That night was great and it’s gotten us to where we are today, Love you….and I did just want pizza.

    • Diedra June 2, 2011 at 11:56 pm #

      Happy Birthday
      Diedra & Gang

    • Diedra June 2, 2011 at 11:58 pm #

      Happy Birthday Husband

      Diedra & Gang

  2. Brenna June 2, 2011 at 10:03 pm #

    I love you two… truly the best! I hope you rock the puffy skirt on all important anniversaries!

    • Al June 3, 2011 at 10:30 am #

      here’s the deal – i’ll find the person who bought it from the salvation army, buy it back from them and then you and i will go out together. you in your cape and me in my puffy skirt.

  3. Will Sitch June 2, 2011 at 11:00 pm #

    oh shit totally forgot

  4. A.A.B. (auntie angie baby) June 3, 2011 at 1:53 am #

    Happy B’day Ben!!

    If it makes you feel any better, the night I met my husband we went to a University party (couldn’t afford booze so took an empty micky of vodka and filled it with water) and a quart of OJ as a mix (yes, water and OJ folks). He picked me up in his car and we drove to the apartment building off campus, parked in the lot (big mistake), pretended to party the night away with everyone thinking we were trashed because all the vodka-water was gone. Then the sad part – we came out to find the car was gone. And since we were sober we knew where we left it. No car – vansihed into thin air. Everyone on the balcony laughing at us because we were ‘so drunk’ and couldn’t remember where we left the car. So we hitched back to the residence and he walked home, all in the pouring rain. Scary? yes. (never hitched before)Romatic? no. Funny? not at the time. Memorable? definately. Still together after 32 years? yipper.

    Moral of the story: bad first dates can be a sign of things to come.

    If anyone is wondering how an old Austin 1100 car can disappear into this air, just ask – it’s a neat little trick.

    • Al June 3, 2011 at 10:31 am #

      hahahaha this made me laugh aloud. how have i never heard this before? i think i need to hear this story again upon my return while we drink ‘vodka-orange juices’ and laugh. you guys have a good meet-cute too!! i love it.

  5. Lana June 3, 2011 at 2:16 am #

    Reading this makes me smile and gives me hope! haha

    • Al June 3, 2011 at 10:33 am #

      if i can meet him looking like that (and these are the GOOD pictures, let me tell you) then you are definitely in a great position. if you ever need a lift, i have approximately 2039450 more stories of how badly i suck that could cheer you up. haha.

  6. Chu June 3, 2011 at 3:11 am #

    lol…I was there at the graduation ball and remember seeing you there!!! You were in your own world….now I finally know why…lol Best story ever Allison!

    • Al June 3, 2011 at 10:34 am #

      you’re so fun – this made me smile. it was truly a hilarious night. miss you!

  7. ica June 3, 2011 at 5:47 am #

    big brother, happy birthday!!! You so old hehehe

    Lal- really really on the outfit …
    Well it did get you somewhere I suppose.

    • Al June 3, 2011 at 10:35 am #

      he IS so old. we should all remind him of this. you know, the beautiful thing of marrying someone older than you is that no matter what happens, they will also hit the big scary birthdays first and test them out for you. somehow now that ben is MID THIRTIES, thirty doesn’t seem so scary. kinda.

  8. Sarah June 4, 2011 at 10:20 am #

    soooo… how did you get back together??.. I love your stories! :) Oh and happy birthday ben

  9. Hannah June 6, 2011 at 1:19 am #

    Since I’ve missed Ben’s birthday. (Happy belated.)

    I would now like to quote the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

    – Oh man, you were right, and I was wrong, but I’m… I’m wrong about most people, so…
    – The important thing is… you always change your mind about them.


  1. the science of getting married. « hey it's me, al. - June 9, 2011

    […] miss j proves that some people remain perpetually un-excited by the concept. does she want to choose her own mate? hell yes. but if her parents decide that arranged marriage is her path, she will have to oblige. […]

  2. the question that never got asked. « hey it's me, al. - June 24, 2011

    […] the most patient man on earth in a vodka and tonic induced haze. and while i know my husband is not flawless – he generally applies the perfect level of […]

  3. what we do to get by. « hey it's me, al. - July 13, 2011

    […] be helping me (and him) get through each day.  sure, we have our fights – lordy we’re both far from perfect – but we always figure it out. because that’s kinda the deal with the rings, i […]

  4. the things we tell ourselves. « hey it's me, al. - August 26, 2011

    […] moment i met the husband – in addition to thinking he was using pizza to get into my pants – i pretty much knew that he was for […]

  5. t is for thanks. and turkey. « hey it's me, al. - October 10, 2011

    […] we get to that though, you may recall that i have told you the story of the first time husband and i met (a ball + vodka + a disappearing act). what i neglected to mention in that little tale is that in […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: