Before I launch a series of dating disaster blog posts, I thought I’d start with a meet-cute story…my own. My husband and I met at a dance that my law school roommate convinced me to attend. She didn’t meet anyone noteworthy, but I sure did.
After our first year of law school, my roomie and I were back in Southern California, clerking during the summer. It was Memorial Day Weekend. There was a beach party during the day and a dance at night. I’d had a busy week and wasn’t planning on attending the festivities. But she wanted to go and begged me to be her wing woman. I reluctantly agreed.
I thought I was doing her a favor, but it turned out she’d done one for me. I called a friend who knew my hubby’s family to make sure he was a safe bet before I agreed to go out with him. Luckily, he received two thumbs up. On our first date, we saw the musical Oklahoma at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. We were talking so much on the way home that we accidentally ended up in a rather sketchy neighborhood of Los Angeles. Needless to say, we started paying closer attention to the maps. It was pre-GPS.
My father was skeptical that a relationship would develop since our parents lived almost an hour apart and California was rationing gas. I was happy to prove him wrong. We were married in the month of April over forty years ago. Our wedding anniversary is later this week. We defied the odds!
