Gotcha, didn't I?
YOU thought I was gonna say, "Thirteen years ago today, I married my best friend." Ha! That would have been a load of crap. I can't say that - it would make me a liar. And lying is wrong, unless, of course, it's necessary.
So, yes, thirteen years ago, I married a complete stranger. Wanna hear the story?? Of course you do.
PVT Geisler (I think it's fun to call him Private. Plus, I'm pretty sure that I outranked him at this point in our lives. Actually, I still outrank him. I'm the Chief of Staff/Colonel/Command Sergeant Major/Boss of the World.) and I met in the barracks at Fort Bragg, N.C. in the summer of 1997. (He says we met on the steps outside, but I say he's wrong.) We had both arrived there over the 4th of July weekend and were eventually assigned to the same unit and the same barracks.
The Barracks...Picture a really old hotel...or a jail...whichever. My room was at the very end on the right. PVT Geisler's room was two doors before mine, on the right. His room was painted all kinds of girly colors - mine was not. His room had bunkbeds - mine did not. (Apparently, PVT Geisler and his roommate, PVT Finney, preferred to sleep one on top of the other.) My room had a fridge full of water and coffee and fruit and yogurt. His room had a fridge full of beer and beer and beer. My room had a lava lamp - his room had a 40 oz Mickey's beer bottle full of pee. (God forbid they walk down the hall in the middle of the night to use a TOILET.) My room smelled like soap and flowers and incense - his room, ummmmmmm, did not.
But, for some reason, I was drawn to his room. Every day...like a magnet. So amazing and just plain meant-to-be. Like there was this special aura between us.
It wasn't magic. It was
Every day, this shirt-less guy would try to lure me into his room with a 40 oz bottle of beer. (I hated beer at that point in my life.) The only actual words I can remember him ever saying were in reference to my boyfriend - "Don't say Boyfriend." Apparently, guys who hit on girls don't like for the girl to talk about her boyfriend. Go figure. The guy, however, is allowed to talk about the boyfriend. As in, "He's cheating on you." and "What a douche." and "What could you possibly see in that idiot?!"
Fast forward a few weeks >>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Boyfriend was cheating on me...With his ex-girlfriend.
He showed up at my room one night, drunk beyond living, told me all about it, and proceeded to pass out on my bed. I left. And went down the hall to find
I found him. We watched a movie and talked about our feelings.
Just kidding - I don't talk about feelings. We just watched a movie.
This is where it gets super duper romantic.....
About a week later,
No, you didn't skip a part of the story. And, no, I didn't leave anything out.
- My boyfriend cheats on me, and
- One week later,
- A week after he returns to Bragg, we decide that getting married would be "FUN!"
So, what is that.....?