Since no one was asking, I thought I’d share the story of how Kory and I got together.
It was January of 1997. I’d finally closed the book on what we’ll call The Neverending Breakup. You know that story? One minute you’re skipping school to read a book and the next thing you know, you’ve been in a dysfunctional relationship for three years, flown on a weird puppy dog beast, and sought advice from a really old turtle. The end is bewildering, and the only thing you can do is hope there won’t be a sequel.
Anyhoo. A friend had been bugging me to go to her college group, so I finally agreed. A day or two before the meeting, I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and opened my bedroom door smack into my face. Those of you who know me know that I really am that clumsy.
An impressive bruisy/scrapey thing resulted. But I went to college group anyway. After all, the Official Rebound Rules prohibited me from even considering checking guys out. Being eighteen, I broke the rules and met a very skinny guy named Kory. I thought to myself, “I could never marry a man that skinny. I’d feel fat the rest of my life.” Dang it!
While I was pondering Kory’s excessive skinnitude, he was thinking, “Wow. This girl must have a great personality if she’s secure enough to go out looking like that.”
Yes indeed folks, sometimes the old “great personality” line actually applies.
A week later (my face looked considerably better) we had our first date. I dragged my girlfriend along because, well, we women enjoy sending mixed signals. The college group was going to a club in Denver that played swing music, so the three of us--Kory, me, and my security blanket--drove up together.
Kory bravely tried to dance with me. I led. It was embarrassing.
On the way home, I leaned forward in between the seats of my friend’s little car and chatted. Somehow, I fell asleep that way, and Kory witnessed my secret superpower—the ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime, in any position. Someday I’ll save the world with a power nap.
I must not have drooled too much because he asked me out again.
I knew it was love from the get go and set about fattening him up. Once I’d gotten him to a healthy weight, I sat back and waited for a proposal. But apparently we’d forgotten to sync our dating watches.
Finally, light dawned for Kory. One Saturday, while he worked in the university lab with another engineering student, an approximation of the following conversation took place:
Kory: So, my girlfriend is at some bridal expo thing today. Other Guy: Silence Kory: What do you think that means? Other Guy: Dude, you’re getting married. Kory: Really? Other Guy: Yeah.
Being a very cautious, analytical person, Kory mulled this conversation over for possible hidden meanings. Eventually he concluded that Other Guy was right, and on a beautiful summer day, he proposed to me on one of the many large rocks in our Rocky Mountains. Don't ask me which one.
We’ve been married ten years this year. Not a bad testimony to the seldom-credited feminine wile of clumsiness.
Anyone else out there catch your man in less-than-mainstream style? Or do you have a funny dating story to share? We all love a good old “meet cute” (or in my case, "meet ugly.") Do tell!