The date: February 18, 1993. The place: College Station, Texas…
I had just moved back to College Station to start my Ph.D. program at Texas A&M after having spent the past 2+ years in Austin. Despite the fact that I’d lived in or around College Station for most of my life, I now knew almost nobody in town, almost all of my high school and college friends having long since graduated and left.
My major prof managed to secure a T.A. position for me, and as part of the preparation, I had to attend a mandatory CPR training class with the other EE (electrical engineering) TA’s. Towards the end of the class, one of the other TA’s and I were chatting, and he mentioned that he and a friend of his and a few others were going out that night to a club for stand-up comedy and some dancing. Then he asked if I had any plans; I said no, he invited me to join them, I said yes.
And that’s where I first met her. She was “the friend” that the TA was going with… and she and I clicked from the first second we met. We had a blast that night, first yukking it up at the stand-up show, then dancing and drinking the night away, innocently flirting with each other the whole while. (It should be noted that her sister and her roommate—both also in attendance that night—initially disliked me for more or less the same reason: they felt I was some drunken lecher that was trying to take advantage of their sister/roommate. Which I was not—a lecher, I mean—but we still had a helluva lot of fun that night at the club.)
When I went home that night, I knew I’d take them up on their invitation to join them the following week, but at that point in time, it was simply because it seemed like a fun thing to do. No ulterior motives whatsoever.