On a cold, snowy January 12th night, my best friend talked me into going on a blind double date with her. Blind for me, as she was trying to set me up with a friend of her current boyfriend (she went through a lot of boyfriends at that point in her life). So, somewhat grudgingly, I got gussied up, which wasn't all that gussied for most 19 year olds in 1991. Especially not compared to how my friend prepared for a night out. My hair was big, but not huge, just naturally curly so I never had to bother with perming or teasing it. Make-up was something I rarely wore, so was the requisite minimum of blue eye liner and black mascara. I was thin back then, about 120 pounds, with long legs, so as far as clothes go, pretty much anything looked good on me.
My friend picked me up about 8:30 that evening, and we drove to where the guys were supposed to meet us. The plan was that the four of us would catch a movie together about quarter after nine.
They never showed up. We waited, and waited, and when they didn't come before the movie started, my friend and I decided it wasn't worth going to see. Instead, she had the great idea of heading over toward the campus of the state university, and hitting one of the college bars there. Both of us loved music, and dancing, so it seemed like a good way to salvage the evening. After all, I was gussied up, something I rarely bothered with.
Around 10:00 p.m., two guys walked into the bar we were at. My friend (remember, I said she went through alot of boyfriends back then?) immediately set her sights on one of them. She assigned me the job of wing man, telling me I had to stand facing her, and she would stand with her back to the two guys who appeared to be friends, or at least, were there together, and I would keep an eye on them while appearing to have a conversation with her. Great cover, huh? The plan was that when the DJ put on the next slow song, I would let her know where the two guys were located, and she was going to go ask the shorter one of the two if he wanted to dance.
I was satisfied with that assignment. It was better than standing there actually trying to shout a conversation over the music, and so far no one had asked either of us to dance. I stood facing her, watching the guys without noticeably stalking them. As I stood there, keeping an eye on them, I thought the taller of the two looked more appealing, but, to each his own. If she wanted to dance with the shorter one, I'd help her obtain that goal. What was a best friend for?
The plan worked; I was able to navigate her to the shorter guy as soon as the DJ announced a slow-down in tempo. She hooked the guy and went happily out to the dance floor. I stood there, on the edge of where the dance floor and the bar met, lost in the crowd, and feeling rather shy, while the two of them danced. When the music changed again, my friend returned, slipped her arm through mine, and told me we were going over to sit at a table.
Where she promptly dumped me in a seat next to the taller guy, while she returned to the dance floor with the shorter one. Tall guy, who had blue eyes and a beard, looked as surprised as I was to be thrown together. We made awkward conversation for a few songs until, when his friend and mine still hadn't left the dance floor, tall guy asked if I'd like to dance.
We did dance, for the larger portion of the next couple of hours, until the bar closed. Even though I'd enjoyed dancing with him, and thought he'd enjoyed it too (after all, he hadn't danced with anyone but me the entire night), I was too shy to give him my phone number. He didn't ask for it. At least, not that night. In the morning, he was regretting that. After two days, he made his friend call my friend, who had of course given out her phone number, to get mine.
The rest, as they say, is history. Tall guy and I began dating two days later. The ironic thing is that neither one of us had been to that bar with the intent of finding someone to date. I'd been dragged out that night on the premise of a double date with my best friend that I viewed as a favor to her. He'd gone out only because the short guy, who was his childhood friend, distant cousin, and current roommate, had conned him into going along on the premise of free beer.
Funny how things work out. Two months after we met, tall guy asked if I'd consider moving away with him when he transferred schools. Less than eight months after we'd met, I did just that. Two years and five months after that fateful January 12th night, we were married.
I can't believe it's been twenty-one years since I first laid eyes on that tall, blue-eyed, bearded man. Like they say, time sure flies when you're having fun.
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