I obviously didn’t know it at the time, but I met my wife on February 25th of 2012, on what was to be the first, last and only online date I ever went on. We met up at the Irish Bank, a divey little bar in San Francisco and several hours later ended up rather drunk on the Embarcadero water front, telling each other dirty jokes. I think I put her in a cab about 1:00 am. Years later she told me she was pissed I didn’t take her home.
No. 0249_10A - Joanna, Los Angeles Hotel, January of 2013
We took a long road trip about a year later, through Los Angeles to see some family, on to Palm Springs, through Joshua Tree, and down to Baja California in Mexico where we somehow acquired small beach dog, but that’s another story.
We stayed at some swanky hotel in LA for a long weekend on the way down, visiting her father in Pasadena and a close cousin of hers that was in town from the east coast. I didn’t find out until about 10 years later that she’d actually flown her cousin out to meet us for the purpose of vetting me. I guess I passed. We were married a year later.