1985

* Editor's Note: I am phoning this in. Read at your own risk.

In 1985 Ronald Reagan was President. A first class stamp cost 22 cents. The Royals won the World Series. Amadeus won an Oscar for best picture. "What's Love Got to Do With It" by Tina Turner won a Grammy. I tricked the Saint into marrying me on June 22nd, 1985.

Let's recount the first time I met the Saint shall we? It was spring break of my junior year of college (1983). I had broken up with a guy I'd been seeing for a little over a year. For me, that was a very long time. I was not looking. I took off with my dad and Sib#2 for a ski trip. We went back home and I had a few days before I returned to college. I had only maintained one friendship from high school (not that I put heart and soul into the experience or anything). That friend was going to a local college and she wanted to get together while I was in town. It was St. Patrick's Day and we hit one of the local watering holes. (Don't bother doing the math - I was underage) She had started dating this great guy who had a roommate (the Saint) and the real agenda was that the Saint and I should meet.

Just as I was pleading that it really was time to go, who should show up but the boyfriend and the Saint. The Saint had on a green plastic derby and a large button that said "Kiss Me I'm Irish". And he preceded to kiss just about every girl in the place. Except ME. Later he admitted that I scared the shit out of him, but at the time I just remember being largely unimpressed.

Nonetheless, part B of the plan was underway. "The First Date." Sheesh. Tried to go to a restaurant that had a gazillion hour wait, so we went to some dive Chinese buffet. We followed that up with a super little movie called High Road To China. Never heard of it? There's a reason. Then back to bar where we met the night before. (Yeah, still with the underage drinking.) So we're having the first real conversation and he asks the inevitable:

Saint: "So, what's your major?" (I know, VERY smooth.)


Me: "English and Art History."


Saint: Snorting and with semi-derisive laughter "Who are YOU going to marry?"

Hee! I guess the joke's on him!

** Editor's Note Note: If I was not a pussy? And posted our actual names? You would realize that the true gold of this story is when young dewy eyed couple , after learning we've been married.....well....longer than they've been alive, asks "So, how did you two meet?" And I get to say "in a bar on St. Patrick's day?" PRICELESS!!