Let the Revelry Begin!

Max and I met online. I messaged him first, and there was a challenge on his profile to write to him in iambic pentameter. Obviously, challenge accepted. Here is that message: While I was the internet perusing, I came upon your profile and musings. "Ok, OKCupid," I said, "what the hell? I've nothing to lose and zounds! He seems swell." But into the message what should I put? I must keep my mouth away from my foot. To top it all, he wants pentameter. While it's true that I am no amateur, (I've done my time with old Billy Shakespeare) Still, there is an easy trap set up here Of sounding too much like old Doctor Seuss. Then again, Doc's a pro. Its no real nuis...ance. A feminine ending is cheating, I think. This is not Hamlet! This poetry stinks. This flurry of ill fitting rhymes, it must end; But, if you liked it, perhaps we'll be friends. And then, not only did I message him first, I asked him out. Fortune favors the bold! Smash the patriarchy! Our first date was at the Natural History Museum. At the end of the night, I spent forty minutes sitting on a scaffolding in the cold because I didn't want to leave him. Seven years later and I still can't get enough.

Now here's a true story that Carla hates.* We were about three dates in, and we had plans to go to the movies. And that was it-- just to go to a movie. The plan was just to meet at my place and then walk over to the theater. And here came this bright shining angel, with a hot Vietnamese meatball sandwich. "I thought you might be hungry," she said. Now this sandwich was on fresh, warm bread, from the restaurant across the street from her old apartment (which has, sadly, passed.) Carla knew that she was going to score some serious points with that move. But she didn't expect that in that moment she would so completely win my heart. I mean, 'cause I WAS hungry. But she didn't know that. And lord, the woman that would get you a freshly made hot sandwich on the off chance that you MIGHT be hungry? Well now, friends, that is a keeper. It would be another three months of "I love you" chicken before I was the first to say it on that cliff at bear mountain, but for me it always comes back to that sandwich, the keystone of our love. (This story is reprinted here with the understanding that I will not spend my entire vows talking about a sandwich.) *I don't hate it! It's just that I've done way better kind and romantic things for him over the course of our relationship. I once snuck a Christmas tree into his apartment! Do you have any idea how excited he was? And let me tell you, that was way harder than buying a sandwich.** **You see how modest she is? In case I haven't done it justice, this sandwich was a Vietnamese meatball sandwich- pork, pickled vegetables, and bread toasted at the edges like it just came out of the oven. It was a winter's day, and that sandwich was still hot; much like my love for Carla post-sandwich, and for all eternity.