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continued....
I was dressed in my favorite oversized paisley shirt, buttoned to the top and secured with a broach, that my friend Amy had dug out of her jewelry box. My jeans were pegged. For those of you who don't remember pegging your pants, you missed out on one of the hottest trends at the time.
I believe Bill overheard me talking about sushi & that's when
he was hooked - we hung out for the rest of the night talking
over loud, cheesy '80's music.
That summer Bill got his car
repo'd (or so I thought) but I hung in there and carted him around.
Next he moved to Connecticut to figure out the job thing, and
I hung in there. He then quit his job, and yet I hung in there.
He found his next job....in Breckenridge, while I stayed in Golden.
He quit that job....and bought a house in Golden! I moved in three
months ago, and found out it was all well worth the wait. "What's
there not to love about Bill," says my Mom; I have to agree
with her on that, I love everything about Bill! He's the kindest
and coolest, has a great smile and is the best friend a girl could
have.
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In '93 my partner and I swore
to never marry a girl from the Internet (since we ran an Internet
company). I've honored that oath.
Invited to an 80s party last
minute by neighbors, I initially declined in embarrassment at
the authenticity of their costumes (wigs, leather, hairspray,
ripped jeans, makeup, hairspray, bottles of Jack Daniels'). My
Saturday afternoon was previously set with beer, sun, and planning
another day as a cool single guy.
Yet, I recalled working security during football at the UofA and
still had the shirt. And, as some have noted, I relish 80s music.
So I went.
At the party I a)
was dumbstruck by how ugly the 80s really were, and b)
struck on a great way to meet Denver gals. As security for the
80s "band" I escorted, I'd shine my flashlight and ask
for I.D.s. Super-cheezy and all 80s, if I say so myself.
I meet this hot little redhead dressed, ummm, in 80s stuff. We'll leave it at that. She loves sushi. Wow, a girl who digs sushi! We talk, we laugh, we drink, we talk.
Things go the way you'd never expect from a lazy Saturday afternoon, and here we are.
Of course, our biggest challenge is coming up with a plausible lie about how we really met. I mean, really, an Eighties party? Sheesh!
Fate's a crazy girl (so is Fuzzy). Who knew I'd have Big Jeff to thank for getting me the security t-shirt those many years ago?
Before, I wondered.
Now? Every day I know I'm Irish-style lucky. Oh, yeah!
Fast forward almost 3 years. I was slow to ask Fuzzy to marry me because (other than the hypnosis hadn't kicked in yet) I didn't believe how easy and wonderful a relationship could be! It seemed too good to be true.
So, we're in love, and we are best friends, and she's still a hot little redhead. Woo-hoo!
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