Before reading this please note my husband did not have a mullet four years ago. Sorry for any confusion. There was another guy in the bar who did though.
Shake your groove thang, shake your groove thang, yeah, yeah! Sing with me everybody! Whoohooo! Let’s travel back in time a few years, say ummmm….almost four. Imagine yourself in a very crowded bar with a dj playing nothin’ but the finest seventies and eighties hits. Oooh, hang on they are playing Jessie’s Girl. (Sings not knowing words really, but sings rather loudly anyway.) Ok, sorry about that. Bartender is freely pouring the shots, people are all singing because everybody knows the songs, and you and your mom both escaped for the evening for a night of dancing and laughing. Mother daughter bonding time. Don’t let me fool you, my mom can shake her tail better than anybody I have ever met. It’s only gotten better as time has gone on, because she now belly dances. I digress.
Back to the bar….867-5309…Footloose, Boooorrnnnn in the USA….whoo hooo! Yeah! Bartender, another glass of wine for me please! Make it white and sweet! Laughter and giggles surround. “Hey, check out that guy’s mullet!” I shout. “Ooooh, this is a good one! Ah, ah, ah, ah, Stayin’ Alive!” The dance floor gets more and more crowded, and now we are pushed back close to where our barstools are. “Oooh, look at him!” I shout. “Who?” my mom replies. No time to answer, good lookin’ is headed this way. “Watch this!” I practically yell. My mom shakes her head knowing that this boy is about to be grabbed in some way. He smiles and asks if he can squeeze through to get a beer. Yes, that was a thigh grab you just saw! His eyes looked like saucers, from pure shock!
I laugh, and he smiles. He does not leave. Instead, he stays close and starts to sing the male chorus of Paradise by the Dashboard Lights. My kind of man! We danced the night away, singing loudly, and laughing. That my friends is where I met my husband. By the end of the night, I asked to borrow his cell, and called myself. “Now you have my number!” I informed him. Oh, yes, was I feeling brazen and bold that night. He called me while I was driving home to tell me that I now had his.
The next day we met at the park, and walked and talked for hours. He told me that he saw me from across the room, and had to come over to me. (Beams with happiness!) If I wasn’t as forward as I am, we both may have missed each other. Now, a few years later, we still laugh about meeting at an seventies/eighties bar. What are the odds of that?
