I was on the long road to finishing college (I worked my way through) and was about to turn twenty-seven. I’d gone out with friends to celebrate early. Sitting around the table at a nightclub, and being in between relationships, I realized I’d never dated a guy with black hair. In fact, I tended toward blue eyed, sandy-blond types. You know, Kens. I’d even dated a guy named Ken in high school. I know, Barbie and Ken. *gags*
While contemplating that thought, I made an announcement to my friends. The next guy I dated was going to have black hair. So, naturally, I look up and the first guy I see walking by the table has black hair.
My friends laughed so hard, I took it as a challenge.
But he’d disappeared into the crowd. Looking around, I finally spotted him on the dance floor. He wasn’t half bad. Actually, he had some decent moves. So, in all my bravado (birthdays have a way of pushing one out of their comfort zone or maybe it was the drink J), I joined him.
We danced most of the night. At the end of the evening, he asked if he could buy me breakfast. I declined, expecting him to ask for my number but he didn’t.
What could I do?
We parted and, with no way to reach one another, didn’t see each other for a month. I’d gone back to the same club after finals just to see if he was there. Apparently, he had, too.
After another night of dancing, and much to my relief, he asked for my number.
With him in grad school and me working my way through undergrad, we dated for three years before he asked me to marry him. Last November, we celebrated our fifteenth anniversary. And all of our kids are good dancers.
Now it’s your turn. Tell me what attracted you to your guy, and is he a good dancer?