I bet you didn't know that you were going to read the story of how me and my husband met. Yep. That's what's on the schedule. There's nothing Mommy today. There's nothing writerly today. There's not the usual random crazy fodder to fill your brain. Today I have an actual story.
In high school I was a one-man-woman and had a relationship that lasted several years and spilled into college. After an especially hard break up I took it upon myself to test the advice to date a bunch of guys and just have fun.
And so I did.
I rolled down the singles ward list with vigor. There was the pre-mission guy who I was certain I'd wait for (does four months count?) There was the recent convert who LOVED the same football team as me (if that's not celestial enough, what is?) Unfortunately he also loved to date (and kiss) lots of girls at the same time. There was the guy down the hall who was still too immature. There was the fun guy who made me feel like a million bucks but was also stuck helplessly in a decade old love-triangle that he couldn't completely break free from. Next there was his roommate. He was a super fun guy. The only guy I'd ever dated who was shorter than me, but still very cute and training to be a pilot. For a date he invited me and previous-boyfriend-roommate-guy up in his little plane over Eastern Washington. Oh what fun, right?! Right... The ride started innocent enough. I offered to sit in the tiny back seat while the two guys sat up front. Yeah, I know. This is sounding less and less like a date. Anywho, about twenty minutes into the ride we started doing some left-then-right maneuvers. Some up-then-down maneuvers. Some oh-crap-I'm-going-to-barf-maneuvers. And when date looked back and saw me sweating profusely and completely green, he knew what was about to come up. He emptied out his pilot bag and I filled it faster than you could say Holy Ruined Date. But I digress. That man is not my husband. Moving on.
A mutual friend introduced me to a guy named Dan at a fireside and I didn't think much of him. Sorry. No love at first sight. He was nice, but he said "hi" and that was it. But the second time I saw him, I remember well. I was at a canoeing activity (new singles ward, new roster of potential datees). A huge black truck came barreling into the parking lot pulling a monstrous trailer of canoes and I had one thought: "Now this guy looks like a Wyoming guy!" (Everyone in Wyoming has a humongous truck and the lack of humongous trucks in Washington, since I grew up in Wyoming, was a serious beef of mine). A few weeks later the friend who had introduced us started inviting me to a few hangouts where Dan was. But--and let me get this straight here--I had no clue he liked me. If there was one thing I'd learned about Dan (besides that he had a great truck), was that he was silent. Very. Very. Quiet.
The group activities (in which I was usually the only girl in a big group of guys who had grown up together) consisted of swimming in pools and swimming in lakes and watching movies. And now that I think about it, I wonder if this was a ploy to get me in my swimsuit on multiple occasions. Hmmm... Anyway, guess what happened? One of the guys asked me out.
But it wasn't Dan.
Holy schmoley is this post getting long. Sorry. I will continue it on Monday!
Did this strike a cord with your dating life? I'd love to hear a dating disaster or experience of yours.