I’ve known my husband for eight years now and somehow everything and nothing seems crazy about Scott being my husband. When I think of the fact that ten years ago I was eating my lunch alone in the stacks of my high school library wondering if I would ever meet anyone beyond my family who would truly know me, everything about it seems crazy. But when I think about how nature is the avenue we both use to understand this world, how living life and loving our families are our first priorities and how we both enjoy simple pleasures like riding bikes, drinking beer and eating burritos (and apparently things that start with the letter b), nothing seems crazy about it.
We met down by the beach, as you might have imagined. We were at a mutual friend’s birthday party located in the small garage of a weathered beach house. There was a keg of beer, a ping pong table and about ten other party guests engaged in drinking games. It was a clear, invigorating January night and damp salty wind snuck through the cracks in the garage. I was in my sophomore year at The University of San Diego and he was in his at San Diego State. Our interests weren’t too far off from what they are now.
The first thing I noticed about him was his face. I think I lost my breath a little when he walked in, even though I pretended not to notice him. The second thing I noticed was that he wasn’t wearing any shoes, despite the cold. One of the first things he noticed about me was my wetsuit tan. The contrast between my tan hands and white winter arms was pretty obvious and proved to be the perfect topic for our first conversation.
A few minutes after Scott and his roommate Mark arrived, my roommate Kate and I got a phone call letting us know that our friend was having a party at his house out by San Diego State. We prepared to leave, but in order to exit the garage we would have to walk by Scott and Mark, who were nonchalantly standing in the doorway.
**Please brace yourself for my corniest/craziest/creepiest (but most successful) pickup line ever.
I went to sleep that night with three of my roommates in a queen size bed lying awake not because of discomfort, but because every part of who I was had been awakened.
-Devon of The Mermaid Chronicles.