It's our 4th Wedding anniversary this month, which means we've been together now for 12 years. So I thought I'd share with you the story of how I met my husband...
I was working in McDonalds, as a Supervisor. You can picture me in a maroon polo-neck t-shirt, wearing a blue badge with my name on, and several gold stars for knowing how to flip burgers and being polite to customers. My friend who also worked there (wearing a dark green t-shirt for general staff) told me about this guy that fancied her. The conversation:
My friend: "Do you want to come out tonight? There's this guy that really likes me, but I'm not that keen. Want to come, and keep me company so you can see him?"
Me: "Yeah, why not?"
Fast forward to later that night, all traces of colour-co-ordinating baseball caps are removed to reveal our glossy hair, though we do still smell faintly of gherkins. We walk into Tom Peppers, the main pub, with it's sticky tables and carpets from all the drinks that have been spilt, and a palpable sense of release in the air as everyone forgets about the day job, and takes advantage of the buy-one-drink-get-one-free offer.
I sip a Bacardi and Coke and follow my friend to the table where her mates are all sitting, and one guy stands out straight away, maybe because he's 6ft 4".
"That's him" my friend whispers.
"Yeah, I see what you mean," I say, "he's not much to look at is he?"
Hmmm... wait a moment. This is maybe not the fairytale love at first sight story you were expecting?! But it's the truth! I was not attracted to my husband when we first met. Perhaps because I was kind-of seeing someone else.
The guy I was seeing was an idiot though. And as I became closer to my friend, started hanging out with her more, and therefore kept meeting the tall, cheeky guy that liked her too, me and him became friends. We lived near each other, so he'd walk me home after a night out, and he'd tell me the guy I was with didn't deserve me. That I deserved better.
And then one day, about 6 months later, we went out on a drive. I grew up in Essex, where one of the main forms of entertainment after the age of 17 is to go out for a drive, with the car crammed full of people, and my future hubby was a bit of a boy-racer. So I was squished in the back seat while we drove through the dark night (probably on the hunt for some food), and I couldn't stop staring at him. He was driving, so no chance of him catching me while I gazed at him!
The next night we kissed - I'm going to say 'under the moonlight' because that sounds much nicer than 'in the smoky corner of a busy pub'. And that was the beginning of a very happy romance:
Thanks for reading, I hope you don't mind that it wasn't a romantic fairytale, but a tale of true love, none-the-less!
(P.S. conversations are possibly inaccurate. It was over 12 years ago. And you get the gist!)