Contact, Crabs, and Carnivores

So, quick recap – One of my guy friends picked up my future husband, Cap’n Firepants, in a bar, the Cap’n doesn’t find the Barry Manilow song Copacabana even mildly heart-wrenching, and he decided to ask me out on our first date so he could shut me up.

For our first date, the Cap’n and I went to see the Jodie Foster movie, Contact.  Well, first we went to dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack.  Back then, Joe’s was a new place in town, the first restaurant in what would later become an enormous shopping complex built in a former quarry.  I don’t think I ate crabs, but I liked the alliteration in the post title.  Plus, Cap’n Firepants told me I shouldn’t put that word because it has other connotations, but anyone who thinks that I am that sort of girl really doesn’t know me.  So, sue me.

The Cap’n was pretty quiet during our dinner.  This, I have come to learn, is one of his simultaneously endearing and exasperating character traits.  But I talked enough for the two of us.  No one has ever accused me of being too quiet, unfortunately.

After dinner and the movie, the Cap’n drove me back to the duplex where I lived.

Fairly certain that he was not a serial killer, though my judgement has been known to be questionable, I invited the Cap’n into my duplex for a drink.

When we entered, my dog – a chow/german shepherd mix – immediately lunged for the Cap’n’s throat in what can only be described as an attempt to eviscerate him on the spot.

I quickly pulled the dog off before skin was broken and blood shed, and I attempted to persuade the Cap’n that I could somehow control this Beast from Hell.  But my tight grip on the dog’s collar did not seem to quell the canine’s desire to tear out the Cap’n’s throat.  Wisely, the Cap’n decided that this would be a good time to call it a night.

I closed the door, threw myself on the sofa, and wept as my dog licked my hair, assuring me that he would never let another nasty male enter our household again.  I was pretty certain that my relationship with Cap’n Firepants and pretty much anyone of the opposite sex would not be happening. Ever.

The next day, the Cap’n sent me roses.

In the ensuing weeks and months, he was able to win not only my heart, but the Hellhound’s heart as well.

Little did the Cap’n know that was ill preparation for the monster who would be the ultimate test of our love for each other about 13 years later – Wonderbutt.

photo credit: Stewart Black via photo pin cc

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