Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Our First Date...now that's good stuff!
I met Mark in the summer of 1997. I used to work in the Parks and Recreation department and so did Mark’s father. His dad introduced us and the following night we went on our first date. I have said a million times that I had the funniest first date in the history of firsts dates. I should totally win an award or something for most hysterical, worst date ever.
Mark and I decided that I would meet him at his house. We went out to eat at a casual dining restaurant chain, then we went to see a movie. Now my first clue should have been the movie…we watched Austin Powers. Mark was so good looking. I remember thinking even if his ability to pick an appropriate date movie was lacking, he did have the most amazing eyes. When the credits rolled we walked out the Mark’s car. We were chatting and I was leaning against the car. We agreed to see each other again, then Mark leans in and kisses me. How sweet! It sounds like a fairytale right? After Mark kisses me he says “Excuse me” and he walks to the front of his car and throws up! Yes, you read that right he tossed his cookies. I was mortified but I had an image to uphold so I said to him “ Wow! I have had a guy or two fall at my feet in adoration after I kissed them, but you are the first one to lose his dinner.” We drove back to his house and didn’t talk much. When we got there, we said goodnight and eww no there wasn’t another kiss.
When I got home my Dad asked me how my date went. I told my Daddy I didn’t want to talk about it and went straight to my room. I kept thinking if I didn’t give Mark another chance I would be the most shallow person on the face of the Earth. Well, I refused to be shallow and when Mark called I agreed to go out with him again. We started dating and I brought him home to meet my family. Mark was the first guy I ever brought home that my Daddy liked. My Dad always said you can tell a mans worth by looking at his hands. My dad said to Mark, “Boy, let me see your hands". When Mark left that night, my Dad and I had a chat. He told me that Mark was a man I could depend on and that if things got serious, Mark was the kind of man who would take care of me. My Dad was old school. He thought that a man was a man when he earned his living by the sweat of his brow because it was reflected in the calluses on his hands. Mark proposed four months later at a park he used to play in as a little boy, growing up in Kentucky. I said yes and my Daddy was right about him.