I believe in God. Let’s get that out of the way. I’m not big on attending church these days but that’s another story.
A bit of ancient history. Graduated college with two science degrees and had planned to work in the space program. The Space Shuttle blew up my last semester and many good people were laid off. So, all wet behind the ears and trying to make my way through a bad situation, I found myself a math and science teacher in an inner city Catholic high school in Houston. And I grew up a Methodist.
This is 1987 or so for those not born yet. I was making a whopping $14K a year. I had truly started to run my own life and was searching for a girl to share it. Little to no progress except for the chubby Hispanic English teacher everyone was trying to set me up with.
As Fate would have it, Pope Juan Pablo was crushing the world and making many stops along the way. One of those was in San Antonio. In order to allow the students to travel and attend mass with the Pope on Sunday, classes were cancelled on Monday.
So there I was on a Sunday night with nothing to do. My old party stomping grounds in SW Houston called my name. Only 40 miles so what the hell.
My first two clubs of choice were closed. I ended up at a nice place but not my style. Bubble gum girls arriving for a Debbie Gibson concert. She was still an relatively unknown entity or I would have probably kept driving.
Spent the night inside, ran into some old buddies, got my drink on. Then this cute as a bug blonde walks by, short as a minute, looks up at me and says,
How’s the weather up there?
Seriously? That’s all you’ve got? I negged her hard. Okay, so she had been getting her drink on too. But now had my attention the rest of the night.
During the show, she was on the other side of the bar and a scuffle was about to break out. I went around and got between her and the fight. I do make a better door than a window. She couldn’t see much but some sort of feeling of absolute protection came upon her. By the end of the night, future plans were made. 30 years later, she is still under my protection.
In the early years, she would call me Daddy. At the time, I found it a bit odd. I was unaware of the dynamic called Daddy Dom/little girl. We would have some semi-kinky sex but neither of us really cut loose probably trying to not scare the other off. Had I only had a clue back then! She was dropping hints all over the place and I was too dense to figure it out Oh well, it has turned out well regardless.
So were it not for the Pope and his visit, I would have never ended up in a bar on a Sunday night. Were it not for a crappy pop singer, my girl would have been at home as well. (This is where I have to disclose her taste in music was quite horrible and I had to look past it.)
So was it simply meant to be or just dumb horny luck? I don’t care either way but it makes a great story to tell our kids.