With our anniversary approaching, I've found myself thinking a lot about the early months of Coach and I. We were married a short 5 months after we met, which almost always prompts people to ask why we "rushed" it. Or if we think the early years might have been easier if we had taken more time to get to know each other before tying the proverbial knot. Honestly, unless we had waited ten more years there wasn't any way that first decade together would have been easier. We both had some growing up to do, and it took some time. I'm just glad we managed to grow up together.
However, I'm digressing from what I was going to write about. I've been thinking a lot about how we met, and re-living why I married the man in the first place.
We were young... 19 years old. I was still living at home, and he had had his own apartment for a couple of months. He was totally enjoying the bachelor life! This particular night, he had been out partying with a couple of his friends when they wandered into the local Denny's Restaurant for the standard breakfast at 2 AM.
Well, this Denny's happened to have me working the graveyard shift that week. Now, I wasn't Coach's waitress. That would make this story too easy. But, he and his friends did notice me that night. (Truthfully, that wasn't too hard to do. I was the youngest waitress on the graveyard shift. The others were a lot closer the the "graveyard" age than I was, if you get my drift.) In fact, one of his friends had actually been in a couple of nights earlier with some other guys, and he happened to mention to their server that I looked familiar (um, yeah.... this particular friend had made a habit of parking his intoxicated behind in a Denny's booth. So of course I would look familiar... lol). That was the point where Coach's statement to the server would become our "How We Met" story. I'll probably never know if he actually said this to his server, who was actually a quite nice little old lady, or if he said it to his friends and his server overheard it. Regardless, she then came over to me to relate the conversation.
Her: See that table over there? The one with the young men sitting at it?
Me: Yeah. They're kinda cute. What about them?
Her: Well, one of them said he thinks he might know you, and another one said (get ready... this is the line that my sons laugh at, my mother rolls her eyes at, Coach's friends high-five at, and I still smile over) he thinks you've got a cute butt.
At which point, I about fell over laughing. I mean, really. How drunk was he, I wondered? The uniform of the day was a very unflattering green skirt. How on earth .... ? Never mind, I told myself. I'll just go over and talk to them. Find out who said what.
And so I did. I sashayed my little self over there, stood in front of their table, smiled, got my "flirt" going, and said:
Me: So..... ServerGal (obviously not her name... but for the life of me I can't remember it now!) over there tells me that you guys are wondering about me.
Guy 1: Um, yeah.
Me: Well, which one of you thinks he knows me? (of course, I already knew the answer to this one. As I said, he had made a habit of coming in after he'd been out partying.)
Guy 2: That would be me. (and he smiled like he was everything I had ever been waiting for... lol)
Me: Ok.... yeah, you know me cuz you're in here all the time. And... (here I paused for effect, cuz really... catching whoever said this one was going to be priceless!) ... which one of you thinks I've got a great butt?
At that, it became obvious. Coach, who was sitting on the outside end of the booth, began blushing. And wouldn't meet my eyes at first. Then he looked up at me, and grinned like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. That would have been me.
At least, that's what I think he said. All I can clearly remember from that moment when he first smiled at me was his dimples, and the way his eyes twinkled and laughed. Corny and sappy, I know. But true, never the less. And no, he wasn't drunk at all. So I told him that I'd be getting off my shift in about 30 minutes, if he wanted to wait around?
He waited. We sat out on the curb by my car that night and talked for three hours. He didn't ask for my number, but instead gave me his, saying he didn't want me to think he was just like all the other guys out there who collected phone numbers. This way, it was up to me if I wanted to see him again, but he really hoped I'd call. Could have been laziness on his part, but I prefer to remember it as a unique pick up line. :)
Obviously, I called him. The very next day, actually. And the rest is history. Oh... there are lots of great stories after that one.... like our first kiss (Are your lips as soft as they look? that came from me!), our first date (Pinocchio), how it came about I was moving in with him (I called and asked if he wanted a roommate. Geez.. I apparently was a forward little thing, wasn't I?) , and how I was the one who technically proposed.
Although I'm apparently not as romantic as he is. How did I ask?
So. You gonna marry me, or what?