(Check out the full challenge here.)
Day 3, Saturday. A treasured memory.
I met my husband online. Specifically, I met him on OkCupid (where I think the “Women are obligated to shave their legs” question is the single most useful dispositive tool in the history of dating for weeding out potential crap dates, but I digress), where he did the following Prime Date-Making Things in prompt progression:
1. Introduced himself by complimenting my writing. (Seriously, online daters: if a person says in their profile that they write for a living, there is no faster way into their pants than by complimenting their writing. Unless they’re asexual, in which case there simply is no route into their pants. Buy them dessert instead.)
2. Announced regretfully that we’d have to put off meeting one another for six weeks while he joined the staff of a touring DCI drum and bugle corps.
“Wait,” you’re all saying now. “How on earth is ‘Hey I just met you and this is crazy but I’m disappearing for six weeks so email me maybe’ prime date-making material?”
Because we’re talking pants here: there is no faster route into a rabid DCI fan’s pants than announcing yourself as the staff of a drum corps. Yes, even being a member of a corps will not get you there faster. We all know that members are illegal for two years and then age out in just four more.
Staff, however, can serve till they die. Maybe later. I’ve met drum corps staff who have actually been dead for about five years; it’s just that no one has told them yet.
I married that man just over two years later. He is currently on tour with that same corps. I’m joining them at Open Class finals this week. Hells yes.