In 1994, there was this eighteen year old girl, she was in a sorority. It was the summer after her freshman year of college. The girl and two of her sorority sisters decided to go out for some fun. This girl had just removed her walking brace from her leg. You see, the girl fell down the stairs of a Fraternity house a month before, and broken her ankle.
The girl and her friends ended up at an eighteen and over club. This club was heavily populated by Marines. Perhaps this girl knew several of the Marines at the club. Her friends paired off with some boys, and left the girl. The girl decided to talk to one of the Marine's friends. This Marine was very quiet and shy. The girl's friends ended up ditching her. Boo, hiss!! That's what eighteen year old girls do. The quiet and shy Marine took the girl home, and got her phone number. The girl never even got the Marine's name.
The girl and the quiet Marine ended up going on a double date with her friends, and the other Marines. This was fifteen years ago. This girl was Angry Julie (me). The shy and quiet Marine, was Angry Husband. Yep. We went to dinner with our friends at El Torito, a Mexican restaurant, and then hung out at the beach. I think our first date was either August 19th or 20th, 1994. I can't remember exactly. Is that bad? We dated solidly for a few months, and then he was deployed overseas for 6 six months. We wrote letters, we called each other, and we stayed together. We recently celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary.
But holy cow, I've known Angry Husband for fifteen years!!!