Thursday, October 05, 2006


This is the time of year that my hubby and I started dating, so naturally I am whimsical about our early days together when it's autumn...

And then there are the memories you'd rather forget.

Like the time we went to a dance club with all of our friends and the guys chose to sit around eating pub fare rather than dance, so I went out on the dancefloor (really annoyed at my bf/future hubby by the way), where, during a really hot song, somebody reached out and grabbed my ass!

I spun around, eyes ablaze with rage, and said "WHO THE HELL DID THAT?" The guy closest to me shrunk with fear and pointed to his friend, who looked horrified that he had been betrayed.

I walked up to the 'gooser' and asked, very calmly, with the *tiniest* hint of seduction in my voice, "So...was that YOU that grabbed my butt?" He started to smile confidently, and he nodded, moving closer...

And that's when I punched him.

Turning on my heel, I had to step over the bodies of his laughing friends who had fallen to the floor in hysterics. The 'gooser' is probably still sitting flat on his ass on that dancefloor, 14 years later, eyes and mouth agape.

I stormed angrily (though *slightly* pleased with myself) back to where my future husband was sitting with his friends. Me and my army of girlfriends told him what had happened, CERTAIN that he would jump up and go looking for blood. CERTAIN that there would be some vengeful, 'jealous-boyfriend-and-his-posse' ass-whooping that night. CERTAIN that I would be swept from this place of imminent, lascivious peril and rescued by the arms of my hero-protector as he shouted furiously against the wind...

"So you took care of it. Excellent."

And then he continued eating his chicken wing.

Hold on...deep breath...

Moving on, only one man was assaulted that night, though the other man lives to hear this tale of unchivalrous behaviour OVER and OVER and OVER again, likely for the rest of his natural life. Makes you wonder who got the better deal?

Also, it's important to point out that my husband has NO RECOLLECTION of this night ever happening, and reminds me of such every time I tell the story. But I remember it like yesterday, every moment, every detail, down to the sauce on the wings (mmm, honey-garlic). You ladies out there would understand.

But I'm older and wiser now. While that night I felt "un-rescued", my husband's reaction revealed that he was gentle, level-headed and believed in me. Besides, a boyfriend who starts bar-fights wouldn't make a good parent to my children, or a good best friend for the rest of my life.

As Zsa Zsa says, "macho doesn't prove mucho."


At 9:59 PM , Blogger Motherkitty said...

I can see why you married him. Can't understand why he doesn't remember you decking some grabber on the dance floor. Too many beers? We knew you were tough, but this only proves it.

BTW, aren't you glad you made the right decision on who to marry?

At 10:19 PM , Blogger Kimberly said...

that's my Franny..pow zoom to the moon!

And yeah, Cat is the better choice...I would pity the gooser if BOTH of you kicked the crap out of him!

At 3:09 AM , Blogger jellyhead said...

What a classic story!! That would be my husband, too, for SURE! He regards me as perfectly capable of taking care of myself, but it would be nice sometimes to have him fuss. Just a little!

At 6:25 AM , Blogger thisisme said...

I nearly fell off the couch laughing - what a classic story.

At 10:14 AM , Blogger MrsGreenThumb said...

That's the reason men like your husband and mine marry women like us. They don't want the aggravation of dealing with problems. They know we're strong and capable, so it's a left-handed compliment, sort of.

At 9:03 PM , Blogger Abandoned in Pasadena said...

Your hubby knows that you can take good care of yourself when you need to, so that's one thing he doesn't have to worry about.


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