I actually met my hubby to be twice. The first time I met him I had a swollen up face from having my wisdom teeth drilled out of my head the day before. My face was black and blue and the inside of my mouth was all stitched up. I looked like I had done a few rounds in a boxing ring. I was also at that particular function with my boyfriend of the time. Interestingly, hubby has absolutely no recollection of that meeting. Was it the face? Was it that I was unavailable? Whatever the case, hubby and I shared friends in common. Whenever they referred to “him” over the next 12 months, I had a face for the name.
The following year we met again. These mutual friends had a combined birthday party each and every year. The previous year when I had the swollen face, the venue had been a Chinese restaurant. This year it was a huge party at their house that went all day and all night, on a Sunday. The other difference to this year’s party, apart from my face, was that I was flying solo, having broken up with the former boyfriend.
The day of the party was also the same day that my mother turned 50. My sister and I put on a nice family lunch for her. Once that was over, I hightailed it to the other side of the city for the more exciting combined birthday party. The place was crowded and the party was well and truly under way. I was wearing my best party outfit at the time with a pair of very fashionable bright orange shoes. (How I loved those shoes!)
I immediately noticed when “he” walked in. “He” has a booming voice and laugh, so he is a little hard to miss. “He” had been to a prior event as well and had already started in on the drinks. As the party continued I was constantly aware of him out of the corner of my eye. Several other guys tried to engage me in conversation but I wasn’t particularly interested in any of the others.
As the afternoon turned into night, more and more people left, particularly as most people had to work the next day, myself included. There were only a few of us left when our hosts had the inspired idea of me giving “him” a lift to the cab rank. “He” had not arrived with a vehicle and I had. “He” seemed to think this was a fantastic idea.
With only a slight detour to look at a statue that was no longer in existence (his idea), he arrived safely at his destination. A few weeks went past and the phone didn’t ring. Our mutual matchmaking friends then got in on the act and told “him” that it was soon going to be my birthday. Out of the blue I receive a phone call inviting me to a dinner party at his place for my birthday.
I went along and was cooked a delicious meal that I have never been cooked again. ( I have a theory that he purchased the meal from a deli and heated it up. Hubby vehemently denies those claims. He reckons the recipe came from his grandmother who has since passed away.) The meal went well, although I got terribly lost driving home in the dark and took about a 1 hour detour by mistake.
The next weekend “he” invited me again for dinner. This time hubby had noticed my penchant for bubbly and had decided we could have a glass or two on the beach after the meal. So off we went down to the beach. The stars were out. The moon was shining on the ocean. It was very tranquil. There was nobody else about on the beach. Very romantic. For about 5 minutes.
We were sitting there drinking when I heard a bit of a scuffle. “What’s that noise?” says Coco, a little nervously in the dark. “Oh, nothing to worry about” says he. The next time the noise was a bit louder and a lot closer. I spun around on the sand to see a water rat the size of a large cat tipping up a rubbish bin to climb in. I am not joking, this thing was revolting and enormous. Even worse, the water rat was not alone. There were other water rats on the sand getting into all the bins.
I obviously did the correct girl thing, screamed very loudly, got to my feet, and ran off the beach. Poor hubby was left to pick everything up. The romantic mood was shattered. I was totally spooked and just wanted to go home. So I did. Straight away. Poor hubby was left standing on the side of the road with the glasses and half empty bottle in his hand.
Funnily enough, I didn’t hear from him for a while after that. A couple of months went past, including Christmas and New Year’s. After meeting a couple of other losers in the mean time I thought I should do the liberated thing and give him a call. After all, he was a nice guy and I had obviously ruined his romantic dinner that he had planned so carefully. Being a New Year, I thought, would be a good reason to call. I left a message saying “Happy New Year” for him on his message machine.
He rang me back quite quickly the same day. It turned out that we had both been in the same coastal town for the Christmas break. What a coincidence! We didn’t bump into each other once, and it is a pretty small town.
We went out for a date to the movies and have never looked back. I was attracted to his positive outlook, and his burning ambition and optimism. He was always on the go and had constant plans. He was also older and more mature than the other guys that I had been dating. He seemed to know where he was going and what he wanted to do with his life.
He was apparently attracted to my legs and my almond shaped eyes.
We had been dating for about 3 months when hubby finally said those magic three little words.