It's Finally Here! How I Dated My Husband: Part II in a Series

Y'all have been so patient. Not like anyone has been banging down my door for second helpings. When I was writing about the blind dates from hell, my dear readers couldn't get enough of my misery. Schadenfreude is part of the human experience, I guess. I'm guilty.

Since it's a new year, I'm required to recruit new members to the Mr. J. fan club. Let the recruitment effort commence:

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not just mentally unstable. I'm also pretty evil. After the whole Blane experience, I decided that for our first "real" date - i.e., unchaperoned by Steve and Suzanne - we would go to the same notorious cash-only restaurant that showed me Blane's true colors early on. Yes, heterosexual gentlemen readers (all 4 of you). I set a trap. However, please do not use my opprobrious act as evidence that all women are manipulative shrews.

I was running late for our date. (Okay, if you've been a reader for more than a month, I don't need to type that anymore, do I? Let's just assume that's how every story begins if I'm to leave the house, okay?) I was not dragging my feet late, just oh-my-gosh-I-like-this-guy, so I must change clothes 17 times late. It was also raining unbelievably hard outside; I knew I wouldn't find a parking space very near the restaurant. Hence, I resigned myself to parking several storefronts down and seeing Mr. J. for the first time in a week wearing the costume of "drowned rat." So much for the 17 outfit changes.

One last refresh of the lipstick in the rear view mirror and then my heart stopped. Some weirdo was here to kill me before my date. Someone was standing next to my car. Did I have my cell phone? Who should I call? Is, "Someone is standing outside my car and it's dark and raining" a legitimate reason to dial 9-1-1? And then I looked again. It was Mr. J. - holding an umbrella and a dozen teeny tiny pink roses. I opened the car door while mentally praying all I had done was check my lipstick and not, um, my nostrils or anything else embarrassing. Mr. J. spoke first, "I didn't mean to scare you. But it's raining so hard and I wasn't sure if you had an umbrella." I didn't. Then I stammered, "But, I'm, um, 10 minutes late. How - where - were you standing outside for the past 10 minutes?" He nodded. "Yeah. It wasn't bad at all." He's an excellent liar sometimes.

Then he handed me the roses. "You probably don't want to bring these into the restaurant, so if you want to put them in your car now, that's fine." He was right again, and I did put them in my car.

Do I really need to tell you that he had cash for the restaurant? Because of course he did. Stay tuned . . . many more nauseatingly romantic tales to come!

New Series! How I Dated My Husband

So, if you were a fan of the How I Met My Husband Series, you know we last left off where I finally met Mr. J. - on an "I almost didn't go" blind date.

Was it a "love at first sight" thing? No. After my first marriage imploded, I decided that was a load of crap. But there were some cute things I noticed.

For example, I can't remember if I blogged about this but I have a bizarre phobia. Heights? Don't care. Snakes, rats, spiders? Don't want to be covered with them a la Fear Factor, but no big thing. Teacher Lady now shares the completely humiliating secret with you and you alone, Internetweb friends: Birds scare the shit out of me. I am really afraid of birds. I hate them with the white-hot heat of a thousand suns.

Steve and his wife loved birds. In fact, they had just rescued some African-gray thing that was very rare and just "the most loving bird ever." Just typing that made bile rise up in my throat. Won't be able to type about birds much longer . . .

Anyway, I shame-facedly told Steve about my little, uh, problem long before I went to his house. He was very kind and understanding (having a daughter not too much younger than me, he was probably well-acquainted with all kinds of crazy). They kept the birds in an upstairs bedroom, they would make sure they were all caged when I came over and wouldn't expect me to look at them. (The birds, not Steve and Suzanne).

Since Mr. J. was a good friend of Suzanne's and understood how much she loved her birds, one of the first things he said was, "May I see the birds?" and Suzanne said sure, she'd love nothing more!! Mr. J. looked at me and Steve came to the rescue. "Ah, Teacher Lady can't look at birds. (Gotta love Steve's way with words, right? Like I was Lot's wife and I'd turn into a pillar of salt if I looked at birds) She's afraid of them." I think I love that man more in this moment than I ever have. Because he didn't blink, or make a face, or roll his eyes or shake his head in some, "Women! Aren't they nuts?" kind of way. He just said, "Oh, okay. See you in a minute, then."

After some drinks and small talk, we headed for the restaurant - a cute little Chinese place I had never visited. We all chatted together. Sometimes Mr. J. and I chatted, just the two of us. Then the waitress brought our check and fortune cookies. Waitress asked how the check should be divided. Used to Blane, I said, "Separate" and Mr. J. looked at me and said, "I'd like to take care of this, if you don't mind." Did I mind?!? Hell, no, I didn't mind!!

Then, the only small red flag: We all got our fortune cookies and went around the table, taking turns reading our fortunes out loud. Somehow, when we came to Mr. J., he managed to do something socially subtle but it was clear he was distracting us from the fact that he didn't want to read his fortune out loud. I was kind of bummed: Was this a "too cool for school" type of guy? Just a generic party-pooper? Or perhaps he belonged to some super-scary cult that forbid the reading of the future because only Master Moonbeam or whoever can tell the future.

Months later, I asked Mr. J. why he didn't read his fortune out loud. "I still have it," he said. I was flabbergasted. "You do?" He nodded. "Why?" He replied, "Because it read, 'A great romance is about to enter your life,' and I liked you so I didn't want to freak you out."

Gotta love him!