First, his mommy met his daddy and fell in love. Then one day they decided to express that love in the way that only two married, consenting adults can...
Oops. I don't think we need to go back quite that far.
Let's start again, shall we?
Once upon a time there was a lovely girl named Whiskeymarie. Whiskey lived in the beautiful city of Duluth, Minnesota- home of Lake Superior, mid-priced chain hotels and R.T. Quinlan's bar. Whiskey was sharing an apartment on 3rd Street with Gustav, her on-again, off-again boyfriend that had moved from Minneapolis to Duluth in an attempt to reconstruct the shattered mess of their relationship that he had singlehandedly destroyed by cheating on the lovely Whiskey with a slutty girl named Allison.
Things with Whiskey and Gustav weren't going so well.
While Whiskey worked two jobs to try and pay the rent, bills and occasionally have a life, Gustav was unemployed (well, unless we can count the job he worked a few weeks at that he never actually got paid for) and spent the bulk of his day sitting on the couch playing Nintendo...
Whiskey was starting to feel as if her relationship with Gustav had run its course, a fact that she- for whatever reason- neglected to pass on to Gustav, who remained blissfully naked and oblivious.
Whiskey decided to dip her toes in the water and see what other viable pieces of man-meat there were in the city on the Lake before she kicked Gustav to the curb. A girl needs to keep her options open, you know?
Over the course of a few months, several potential suitors presented themselves. Whiskey gave each and every one a thorough audition, but none seemed to get her motor running the way that Levi did.
Levi was a tiny bit younger than Whiskey, with pretty ice-blue eyes and a reputation for being a bit of a ladies man. Whiskey was undaunted by this, and really took it as more of a "challenge" than a "red flashing light".
It was now Christmastime, and Whiskey and her friends were busy planning the yearly formal party that had been held for years at various locations. This year it was at a house on the hillside, hosted by a sort of stoner chick and her maybe-a-date-rapist roommate that we were all friendly with.
Whiskey had a sleek little black dress selected for the occasion (Donna Karan bought for a mere pittance) and was excited to finally get Gustav out of the house and into a social situation where he would be required to wear pants. Whiskey knew Levi would also be there, and she hoped that maybe the appearance of Gustav would drive him into a blind love-tizzy and he would be compelled to make her his.
The night of the party, Whiskey was almost ready, and looking quite me-ow in her dress and heels, but something didn't seem quite right. Why was Gustav still sitting on the couch watching TV? Why was he not getting ready, why was he not putting on that dashing vintage sharkskin suit that his amazing girlfriend had purchased for him?
So she asked, "what up, dog?" (o.k, maybe she said "what's the deal? Why aren't you getting ready?" but my version is so much more street, don't you think?)
The answer was NOT at ALL what Whiskey wanted to hear.
"I feel fat. I'm not going. You go and have fun without me. I don't want to go feeling fat" (pouty face)
Enter: Rage, confusion and wondering if maybe Gustav is actually gay.
After a brief "discussion", Whiskey stormed out and walked the few blocks to her girl Waffle's place for some pre-gaming.
A few vodka & kool-aids were consumed, then Blondie showed up with her boyfriend and her boyfriend's best friend, who for now we'll call "Bruce".
Bruce was VERY cute- kind of shaggy, olive skin and very engaging green eyes.
Whiskey was pouting to her friends, "Another year where I don't have a date, dammit! What kind of loser am I living with? What is wrong with me? Boo-hoo."
Blondie had an idea. "Hey, why doesn't Bruce be your date? There you go."
So it was decided that Bruce would be Whiskey's date for the evening.
Whiskey had a grand old time at the party. When she wasn't busy sucking down sympathy drinks, she was trying to get Levi to make out with her and calling Bruce "Benny".
"Hey there Benny (stumble, slurring). Wass yer name again? Yeeerr cute."
Alas, that night Whiskey neither swapped spit with Levi (he made out with someone else) nor charmed the pants off of Bruce. She went home the next morning after crashing at Waffle's shamed, pissed off and once again sexually frustrated.
Flash forward to the past a few months. Easter is approaching, and Whiskey has convinced Gustav to move back to Minneapolis- though they haven't "technically" broken up yet, and maybe Gustav thinks that Whiskey is planning on moving too (Hey! before you judge, let it be known that this was the ONLY way to get him out. Seriously. He'd probably still be sitting there now, naked & playing Nintendo if I hadn't used this little "deception" tactic.)
Whiskey, feeling good about technically living alone- finally- goes out one Saturday for a friend's 21st birthday. After several drinky stops and the birthday boy's bar brawl (a stool was hurled through the air, we were kicked out) at the Anchor, they end up at a cheesy white-trash dance "club" in Superior, WI.
Whiskey is feeling bold and sassy in her short, pleated Esprit skirt, baby tee shirt, white anklets and black clunky mary janes. She's needing a little "attention" from the male of our species, if you catch my drift. She spies a familiar looking boy across the room- tall, olive skin, longish "grunge" hair...
Boldly she walks up and starts conversation.
Whiskey holds nothing back. She shamelessly flirts, bums cigarettes (even though she doesn't smoke) and decides that she will NOT be going home alone tonight- Bruce is just going to have to suck it up and do his duty as a man.
Bruce is basically ordered by Whiskey to ditch his group and join hers as they are going to an after-bar party near her place back in Duluth. Like a good, smart boy, Bruce agrees.
They stayed at the party a bit, but lust and curiosity soon got the best of them. And hey, Whiskey points out, my place is just a few blocks! Why don't we ditch this party and go somewhere more "comfortable?"
(cue music) "Bow-bow-chicka-bow..."
(Really, it wasn't like you think. And no, I'm not giving details. And yes, I made him coffee in the morning)
*Our 1st New Year's when we were dating, Jan 1, 1995
Sunday a.m, Whiskey starts to panic a little that Gustav may make a surprise appearance as he still has a ton of his stuff there and has mentioned "picking it up one of these weekends". Bruce calls his brother for a ride. Pleasantries are exchanged, and Bruce leaves. No future plans are made.
Summer comes, Bruce is back in town from school (Minneapolis), Gustav has finally been 86'd, and then- finally- the dating begins, and the rest is history.
So yes- I picked my now-husband up in a nasty bar and took him home with me.
But, it did make for a very interesting entry in the wedding album.