How I Met Mr. Yardbird - Part 1

Dear 18+ year old Hammy,

Six years ago in this very week, I met your father. I met the man who would one day be your dad and my husband. The man who taught you how to throw a ball and the man who switched from pricey store brands to generic because of his love for your mom.

One day you will ask me to tell you this very story. Of course, this is the story I will tell you when you are older and not the one I will tell you when you're a kid. Because the truth is, we didn't meet in the ice cream parlor or at the movies or the ice skating ring if we even had one of those around here. We met at the local pub where I worked and where your dad was a frequent customer and I was, you guessed it, his waitress.

It was just after Christmas time and I had returned back to my college town where I was living after spending a few days with my family. I was in between life events, I had just graduated from college and had plans to attend grad school in the fall. In the meantime, I was working at a local pub to kill time before I made the big move back home for grad school.

The pub was set up in an old creeky house and served a variety of local and imported beer. The weekday nights were very low key, and on the weekends a one man band would set up in a corner of the house, strum on his guitar and sing just loud enough that you could still hear the person next to you. It was nice and people seemed to really enjoy the peaceful, no frills atmosphere.

I had been working there for just about six months. The majority of our customers were guys, because in the town where this pub was located, most girls preferred to drink two for one Margaritas at Chilis. In the short time it had been since it opened it became a hangout spot for the guys, a club, sort of, where only guys belonged and maybe a few cool girls who appreciated import beer, or at least could pretend they did for the sake of being "one of the guys".

While I was working there I was asked out on dates fairly often. Being one of the only girls around combined with liquid courage made the atmophere ripe for these kinds of situations. Unfortunately, I was just on the heels of a bad breakup that left me feeling like I needed to read and reread the book, "He's Just Not that Into You." followed by the book, "You're Just Not Into Him Either." I was a complete mess and the few times I took someone up on thier offer for a date, I quickly realized after one or two dates, I was not ready to start dating again.

Though all the guys I dated in the months after the breakup where nice, none of them would be anything like your dad and even though I didn't know your dad I still had a pretty good idea of what I was not looking for.

Working on Halloween in
Eighties Workout Gear

For example, on one date, a guy asked me what I would think if he were to propose that night. He had explained that he wanted the best table in the restuarant so he told the hostess he was going to propose. But even so, he was wondering what I would do if he did propose. It was our first and only date. And while I sat there sweating bullets, I ate my dinner in record speed and mapped out all the possible exit strategies in case he was crazy enough to actually do it. He didn't, thank goodness.

Another guy was sweet and sent me flowers. I know that lots of girls like them but at the time, I didn't appreciate flowers like I should have, so it didn't work out. For the record, your dad is not a flower giver. He once told me he was sending me flowers and instead sent a giant potted plant. It was very romantic.

Working on Halloween in
Eighties Workout Gear

And finally there was one guy who on our second date showed me a tatoo of a Picasso painting on his arm. "I got it yesterday," he said. "It was something you said to me the last time we went out that made me think I should get it."

Ham, who knows what I said. I might have said, "I like art." Sometimes, I get nervous and talk just to fill up the silent moments in conversation. But somehow my nervous chatter inspired an arm length Picasso tatoo of man playing a guitar.

Yes, Ham though all of the guys were great in thier own way and perfect for someone else. I knew that there was someone out there who was just right for me.

With the luck I had been having, I thought for sure I should call it quits for a while. Embrace my solitude, read books, dine alone, purchase a cat (which I did - Murphy).

But you know what, in beginning of January six years ago, your dad walked right through the door of the pub and changed my mind.