First Date With My Wife

Setting: My brother's car, as we rocket along a country road towards our aunt's house on Easter Sunday, 1996. I have been talked into leaving my college town and going home for the weekend to  spend time with my family. By "talked into," I mean "bribed by the promise of a flask of whiskey to sip from throughout the family gathering."

Me: You know, I have this weird feeling I'm forgetting something.

Bryan: Did you turn your stove off?

Me: No, I never cook. It's fine.

Bryan: Did you finish that paper you have to turn in tomorrow for your Educational Methodology course?

Me: Yeah. I just copied the first two pages of Das Kapital and added "student-led growth model" to the end. A-material for sure. 

Bryan: Did you blow off a brunch date with the future love of your life?

Me: Yeah, but that's cool. She'll understand.

Bryan: Did you bring the flask of whiskey for us to drink out of?

Me: AAH!

At this point, my brother yanks the wheel and the car does an impressive 180, taking us back to my apartment to retrieve the beloved flask of precious alcohol. Meanwhile, Kim sits at a family restaurant back in our college town, with several friends.

Friend: Are you annoyed that this guy we're waiting for and who obviously blew you off today is going to be a long-term thing in your life, constantly disappointing you with his carelessness and short-sightedness?

Kim: No, I've pretty much accepted that.

Friend: Then what are you so annoyed about?

Kim: It's not easy to tell you guys this, but...

Friend: Just tell us. We won't judge.

Kim: He...he likes Phil Collins!

Friends: Oh honey, I'm so sorry...

Kim breaks down crying; friends console her. 

Ahead of me, family Easter. Behind me, tragedy and judgment.