A not so typical love story...but it's ours.

My Valentine.

My husband and I met in a bar. Yep, a bar. We’ve agreed to tell our children it was a restaurant because I’m pretty sure they sold hamburgers or something after 10 pm. It was late August 2001. I had just broken up with a long-term boyfriend after having been cheated on. To say I was “anti-men” at the time would be a gross understatement. I was about to kick off my second, and final, year of nursing school and had just moved into my sister’s new house with her. It was to be a year of bachelorette pad living, studying, and partying with my friends. Lots of pizza would be consumed, drinks would flow, and I feel certain that on more than one occasion, my make-up didn’t get washed off before I went to bed.

            My sister and I had gone out with friends to eat Mexican and she and I decided to go out afterwards (read: best decision of my life, to date.) Anyway, we walked in this club and were immediately met by a fat, sweaty (picture late August in Mississippi), fraternity looking guy. He stopped me and shouted above the music, “Hey! Didn’t you go to Jackson Prep with me?!” All I could think was, “What kind of pick up line is that?” First off, Prep does not have big graduating classes. I graduated from Warren Central with upwards of 270 and I dare say I could point out each one of those. However, suddenly he doesn’t remember one of about 50? Anyway, I figured, “What the hell?” and humored him. “Heck yeah! Class of ’97 rocks!” and kept walking. Lindsay and I had to use the restroom so we scooted by the memory challenged sweat ball (note: lest you worry, this is not going to turn out to be my husband.) We walked in the bathroom and giggled about the immaturity of some men. I mean, “High school? Really? That was like forever ago”….(read: 4 years seemed like forever at the time.) We walked out to find the memory challenged sweaty beast standing there waiting for us. Whoops. We walked past like we didn’t notice him and headed to the bar for a beer. He followed. I had a stroke of genius stupidity and stated firmly, “Look, we’re lesbians. Not interested.” “SWEET!” he returned. Do not feed the animals, Sara. That just made it so much worse. Suddenly, I kid you not, I start feeling something wet on my back. Remember those “back-less shirts” that were all the rage in the early 2000’s? It had a few ties, but that was it? Yeah, I was skanking it up but that’s what I was wearing and that's not the point. Focus. I looked over at my sister with eyes as big as quarters and stated those 5 words that would be repeated and laughed at every single time we remember this night, “IS HE LICKING MY BACK????” Ever so cool, my sis leaned back, took one glance and  stated, “Yep.” Oh. shit. How do I get out of this one with my Southern grace intact??? I mean as much Southern grace as one can have while wearing a backless shirt, drinking a beer in a bar. Suddenly, a spot cleared to my left and up to the bar walked a cute knight in shining armor fella. I looked over desperately and noticed the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. And, ya’ll, I’m not even an “eyes girl.” It’s not typically something I notice first. However, those baby blues were precious and I guess I had enough liquid courage to sputter, “Umm, see this fella licking my back behind me? Yeah. I don’t know him. Would you just pretend to be my boyfriend real quick?” “Sure,” he laughed easily. I spun around and stated firmly, “Excuse me, but I’d like you to meet my boyfriend……” (whispered, “Say your name!”) “Hey, man, my name’s Wade and I really don’t appreciate you doing that to my girlfriend.” He actually bought it and, apparently, had enough libations to forget that 5 minutes before this, I was a lesbian. He quickly wandered off to lick on some other unsuspecting lady and left me to stammer stupidly to the handsome man to my left. We had our first “official” date 6 weeks later and were married 4 years later. So, here's to you, whoever you are. You sweaty, memory challenged, lustful licker. On this Valentine's Day, 12 years later, your efforts did not go unrewarded.