Thursday, November 17, 2011

You Won't Marry Me - Challenge Accepted

Have you ever wondered why or how Chris & I got married?  Here's our love story...you may want to have the tissues handy...



August 2001

Chris was fresh out of Officer Candidate School & working at The Citadel in Charleston, SC, waiting to attend the Naval Weapons Station for training.

I was starting my third year in The Holy City, living with one of my oldest & dearest friends, Arynn.

It just so happened that my roomie's ex-boyfriend was one of Chris's best friends and fraternity brothers at Georgia Tech.  Arynn was the only person Chris knew in the area, so one evening he called and offered to take her and her roommate (ME!) out to dinner.

For some background, I was happily & decidedly single...not lonely...single.  I was also working 50+ hours a week for barely more than minimum wage in a very physically demanding job, so I was also hungry.

Enter Chris...Chris, a frat monkey I already knew stories about and had seen pictures of from various trips during his Georgia Tech days.

Years before meeting Chris
Dana: "He's kind of cute."
Arynn:  "Yeah. He knows it."
Dana: "Oh. One of those...gross."

He dated another girl I knew. It didn't end well...much like most of his relationships prior to me.  So, to put it mildly, I didn't like him before I even met him.

However, I'm never one to turn down a free meal.  Especially when I'm hungry.

We went to one of my favorite local restaurants, The Wreck, and I ate so much food. I ordered extra hush puppies because he was flashing cash like he just got his bonus.  A girl's gotta eat...

September 2001

We went out a few times after that. I took him to a local band's concert so I could try & make a bass player jealous.  Fun stuff like that!

One night, we had a real date.  We went to dinner at a nice French restaurant I worked at for a while and then saw Jeepers Creepers together.  He drove me home, walked me to the door...

Chris: "Well, I feel like we've gotten to know each other and we've become more than friends. Would it be appropriate if I kissed you goodnight."
BitchDana: "First of all, we're barely more than acquaintances. Second of all, if you have to ask if it's appropriate to kiss someone good night, it's obviously not."
Chris: "Okay. You can call me when you get back from your sister's if you want to." (gets in car immediately and leaves)

I left the next day to visit my brand new niece and had several days to reflect on what had happened.  A guy had, for the first time, completely not put up with my bitchtastic BS.  Also, a girl, for the first time, had not swooned over Chris giving her attention.  Obviously, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I emailed him while I was in Virginia and called him as soon as I got back.

I went out with Chris and other friends for my 25th birthday a few days later on September 27th.  My best friend called the next morning and I told her I had met the man I was going to marry.



October 2001

A few days after my birthday, one of us made the comment "you won't marry me." This started a "no, YOU won't marry ME" type stupid argument. We are REALLY REALLY good at stupid arguments. I called his bluff and told him to call my mom and tell her we were getting married. He did it, poor sap.

Mom assumed I was pulling her leg so she started telling Chris that he wasn't good enough for her daughter and she did not approve of him, etc.  I saw his face just drop. Poor guy didn't know what hit him.  I took the phone away and told her I wasn't kidding.  She has a conscience, unlike me, so she felt bad and only laughed a little bit before she told Chris he had to spend a weekend with her...without me.  He did it, poor sap.


April 2002

We got married.


November 2011

9+ years later, we're still married, poor sap.

Had we known each other any better, it probably wouldn't have happened. We didn't like each other very much that first year of marriage.  Thankfully, we like each other now.




Mama’s Losin’ It


Inspired by: 3.) Married? Tell us the story of how the question was popped.
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