Newlyweds No More

It’s official: as of today, Steve and I have been married a whole year.  And to celebrate the fact that we’ve survived relatively unscathed, we’ll be spending the next few days looking back on the big day and beyond.

It makes sense to start with the story of how we met.  It was nearly 8:00 on a Thursday night in March 2005. I was flushed and sweating from my after-work spinning class, and I was rushing down to the Embarcadero muni station, hoping to catch the N-Judah to the Caltrain depot in time for the 8:07 train.  But there was no muni in sight. So I waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  Typical.  I looked around and saw a number of others waiting impatiently. Including that cute guy I saw on the train all the time, and me all yucky and sweaty from working out.  How awful.

Of course, it was Steve, and I didn’t know it at the time, but he was working late because it was the middle of tax season and, being an accountant, that’s his busy time.  He was also hoping to get the 8:07 train.

After some waiting, the muni came. I got on, relieved that I would likely make my train and not have to wait an hour for the next one.  Steve got on too.  My relief was short-lived, though, because the muni driver announced that it was going out of service at the next stop and we would have to wait for the next one.

I was frantic.  If I missed the train it was an hour until the next one and I’d be getting home past my bedtime.  So I disregarding my disheveled appearance and approached Steve. I asked if he was trying to catch the 8:07 train — which I was sure he was since I saw him on the train regularly — and asked if he wanted to share a cab to the station.  No sooner had he said yes than the next muni came, so there was no shared cab ride. But, we did make the 8:07 train (barely), and sat next to each other on the train pretty much every day after that. And that’s about all there is to it.

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