Leaving on a jet plane.
The Mrs. and I are off to North Carolina to spend Memorial Weekend with our Soldier Girl. She'll pick us up at Raleigh and then off to Ft. Bragg and then maybe Wilmington and Cape Carteret. It's been a hellish few weeks at work and I really need some down time.
While I'm away, how about this: write a comment on how you met your wife.
I met my wife at a bar. I had been scratched on my hand while breaking up a street disturbance and contacted infantiago. The doc kept me out of work for several weeks until the scabs on my face and scalp stopped festering and oozing. The night before I was going to return to work I headed to a place called Frankie's. The scabs had all but disappeared but I hadn't shaved yet.
I saw this striking, obviously Italian, young lady and after a spell, decided to try to talk to her. I downed a bit of liquid courage and approached her. I struck up a conversation, or tried to. She was not impressed at all with me, or so I thought.
I asked her to dance. Her replay, "No, the band sucks." But I was friendly, persuasive and have blue eyes. It was a winning combination. And the scabs were almost gone. She asked me what I did for a living and I had to tin her. She actually relaxed a bit and became friendlier when she saw I was in law enforcement. Even after I warned her to stay away from cops. She was out for the evening with her cousin - who was amazed when this Italian beauty agreed to go out to breakfast with me. Took her home after breakfast and never stopped seeing her. That was the summer of 1979 and we married in May of 1982.
Ok, Ok - I do remember... it was July of '79. I remember because just that month on my way to work I drove my almost completely restored 1963 MGB into the side of a VW bug driven by an idiot who turned right in front of me only two blocks away from the police station. Totaled my poor MGB. The only thing funny about that accident was the absolutely classic look of "Oh, am I f**d" on his face when I climbed out of the MGB in full uniform.
3 comments:
Enjoy Sig, My wife picked me out of a line-up of guys who live to be love slaves to their woman. Not sure what to add to that.
Hey, you can't just leave like that. What will I do for fun.
I'm not into private life details, but we met at my friend's (Groom) and her Friend's (Bride). You're a newly wed. We married in 74.
Have a safe & happy trip. The better half and I met online in an AOL chat room. I was looking for advice on dealing with a local woman that interested me. Before starting to chat with my wife I called up her profile to insure no complications would result. It told me she was young enough to be my daughter, lived in Texas (I was in Connecticut at the time), was going to Baylor University for her degree in nursing. I figured it was safe, no way and no how could anything come of contacting her.
After 13 years of marriage, permanent residence in the DFW metroplex, three children, etc. we can all see how that worked out.
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