Un-Rescued

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."