Peek Into The Past, Part 2

As I mentioned in the last post (click here to read), Keith and I will celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary next Tuesday. Some wives give their husband cards. Not me, I write a series of blog posts. Keith probably prefers a clean house, but where's the fun in that?

This post makes more sense if you read Part 1 first. Yesterday I attempted to show that momentous day almost three decades ago when a serious responsible Midwest Scandinavian ex-Marine met at college a scattered free-spirited, sometimes goofy outdoor girl from California. And the rest is history.
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A Year and a half after Keith and Angie met - Playing backgammon

ANGIE - "Did you get your history paper done?"

KEITH: "Two weeks ago. Did you?"
ANGIE: "Yes and no."

KEITH: "What’s that mean?"

ANGIE: "This is my third time taking the class. I flunked the other two times so I already wrote this paper last year. I just need to find it, retype it when I get home after the basketball game tonight and it’ll be ready by tomorrow."

KEITH: You flunked history twice? Never mind, I don’t want to know."

ANGIE: I suppose you’ve never flunked a class.

KEITH: I am on the dean’s list.

ANGIE: (laughs) So am I.

KEITH: (looks skeptical) How?

ANGIE: I didn’t say which Dean’s list. I’m on academic probation. But from now on I’m done goofing around.

KEITH: Doesn’t make much sense to pay for classes and not pass them

ANGIE: (drops her backgammon piece on top of Keith’s piece, makes an annoying sound, and sends him back)

KEITH: I hate it when you do that.

ANGIE: I know. That's why I do it. (folds her arms and leans back) There’s a girl in my dorm who’s interested in you.

KEITH: Don’t start that again. I’m not interested.

ANGIE: Why not? She’s nice, straight A student, ex-military, very responsible, and always on time. She’s perfect for you.

KEITH: I can pick out my own dates, I don’t need your help.

ANGIE: Ooohh, so you have picked someone out. Who is it? Come on, you can tell me.

KEITH: Would you stop it?

ANGIE: Your face is red. You are interested in someone. I knew it! Please tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Who is it?

KEITH: Hem…haw…umm

ANGIE: Who?

KEITH: Well…I…er….hem…haw.

ANGIE: Come on, spit it out.

KEITH: (opens his mouth and shuts it, starts and stops) "Well…if you want to know, it’s you."

ANGIE: (visibly surprised) her mouth opens and shuts. "Me? No way."

They stare at each other at a loss for words. Keith finally speaks, "Would you like to go out Friday night? I want to get to know you better."

ANGIE (still in shock) squeaks out, "Okay."


First Date

ANGIE: (gets in Keith’s blue Volkswagen Beetle) - "Sorry I’m late. You been here long?"

KEITH: 20 minutes

ANGIE: But it’s only 7:05.

KEITH: I got here 15 minutes early

ANGIE: I’m so sorry. Well, lets get going.

KEITH: You forgot to put on the seatbelt.

ANGIE: I didn’t forget. I don’t wear seatbelts.

KEITH: In my car you do. We’re not going anywhere til you put the seatbelt on.

ANGIE: Oh fine. (Takes seatbelt and looks at it puzzled.) I’ve never seen one like this before. How does it work?

KEITH: Figure it out

ANGIE: (Sighs.) After several unsuccessful tries, she mutters, "This is the wonkiest seatbelt I’ve ever seen. Can you help me with this stupid thing?"

KEITH: (reaches over and latches it into place) "There. Don’t know what’s so hard about that."
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And so the adventure began. From that auspicious beginning I began to loosen Keith up and he stablized and grounded my life. I even managed to make the right dean's list my senior year. We dated 2 and 1/2 years before getting married.

And now 25 years later, we're celebrating that I was nosy and liked to tease, that Keith worked up the nerve to ask me out, that I didn't get offended at his brusqueness on our first date, that we learned to live with each others quirks and annoying qualities, that we didn't give up in the hard times, and that we're still best friends. That we stayed together for richer and poorer, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health. I'm still late half the time, but I'm better than I was. Maybe in another 25 years...