How I Met My Hubby, or The Bartered Bride

Hubby's Portrait

I met my husband, Mark, in college. While I lived in the "Maple" dorm, he lived in Cedarcrest, the rowdy dorm on the edge of campus. As luck would have it, he lived down the hall from a friend of mine from high school, a guy named Mike. They became friends; how could two goofballs/pranksters not?

My friends and I had a fun college habit of going to Dunkin Donuts for breakfast...at 11:oopm. One night, we called to invite Mike to join us. In the background, we heard this completely goofy guy. He sounded fun, so we told Mike to bring him along. That was the night I met Mark.

At the time, I was dating a guy I affectionately refer to as "Satan". He, however, was too lazy to join us on our treks to the coffeeshop. Divine providence.

I was instantly smitten. Mark was funny and polite and sincere and a million other adjectives that could never be used to describe Satan. I lamented that I didn't have someone like Mark in my life. I lamented further that he seemed to have a crush on my friend, Sarah. I was thrilled for her; she was so sweet and kind, and she deserved a great guy like Mark. Still, when he put his arm around me while goofing around, I yearned for him to keep it around me forever.

Little did I know...

That night, Mark went back to his dorm with Mike. And he asked Mike for my number. Mike, ever the shrewd salesman, asked what it worth. Mark scanned his room trying to think of what he, a poor college kid, had to offer.

"You know that end table that you like? The one that belonged to my parents? I'll give you that."

Mike's eyes lit up and he agreed. 

The rest is, as they say, history. Mark got my number and pranked me. I started inviting him up to hang out with my friends and me. We spent hours just talking about school and growing up and life. We shared a first kiss, though debate continues as to when that actually occurred. I forgot about Satan and nearly forgot to unceremoniously dump him.

And nearly 16 years later, I'm helping him celebrate another birthday.

Mike once told me that he should have asked for more than just the end table, for a case of beer or something.

Yeah, he definitely got the raw end of the deal.

Though it was a very nice end table...