Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Meant To Be


Bob and I met four years ago, almost to the day. I was about seven months out of the No Good Very Bad Breakup, and looking again. He was, well, drunk.

My friend Sherry and I had tickets to see The Clarks at Station Square here in Pittsburgh. When we got into my car to head to the show, I looked over at her very seriously and said, "Sherry, tonight I'm finding a man."

About halfway through the show I became aware of a couple of drunk guys standing behind us. Drunk #1 was tall and built like a linebacker. He desperately needed a shave and, god help me, he was wearing a Hawiian shirt. Drunk #2 swayed back and forth and looked as though he might vomit on his shoes.

A slow song came on, and, being a good sport, I held up my lighter and swayed in appreciation. Apparently I flicked my Bic a little too long. It exploded in my hand.

"Whoa!" Drunk #1 slurred. "You blew up your lighter!"

Ah, romance.

We chatted here and there, as well as anyone can over screaming guitars and crowd noise, for the rest of the evening. When the lights came up he stumbled my way.

"Hey, you wanna go out some time?"

I looked at Sherry. She looked back, her eyes so wide they were ready to pop out of her head. Then I began to understand temporary insanity.

"Um, sure, why not?"

I would like to take a moment to point out that I was dead sober at the time.

"Cool! What's your number?" he asked as he killed his beer. Drunk #2 looked on, apparently still considering that shoe thing.

I gave it to him. My actual, correct telephone number.

"Awesome. I'll give you a call sometime."

Or, "Awshum! I'zl give yooooo a ca, call shumtime."

We said our goodbyes and Sherry and I scurried off to our car. The hilarity of the situation hit us. We ended up doubled over laughing in the parking lot. Sherry called my mental status into question more than once. I defended myself by saying I just wondered if he'd actually call, and that it was good practice flirting for the next time. Certainly I would never actually go on a date with the guy.

I'm marrying Drunk #1 in three months.

As for Drunk #2? Well, he's the best man.