Sunday, January 25, 2009

No. 10


Beer: Fuller's 1845 Celebration Ale
Date: January 24th, 2009

Place: Our House, Somerville, Massachusetts


I met Marianna over some beers.

I was new in Durham. Didn't know where the post office was. Or where to get groceries, gas, coffee. One way streets from a time when there might have been critical mass downtown made it that much tougher to get anyplace. I was two blocks from work and that was the extent of what I knew.

But I also knew that my future wife lived in the same apartment number one building over. I'd been introduced to her the first day or work and found out she lived where she did and where that was was close to where I was and if I was going to fill my nights I needed friends and I needed them quickly. She extended an invitation to help if I needed anything. Which I did.

Like a hammer. A vacuum. One trash bag.

I continued to find reasons to invite myself over to this shy girl's apartment. She was quiet. Clean. Lonely? I hoped.

One night she offered a beer.

“My friend got married. The wedding was here. And since everyone traveled, I was given the beer. No one else could take it. You want one? It's probably a year old. Maybe not that old.”

Yes. I'd love a beer. Along with groceries, gas, coffee. It was a Michelob I think. And it was the finest beer I've had in my life.

So Saturday night we made dinner and I had another beer with this girl. Only this time she was less shy. Less a stranger. Three and a half years after offering stale beer in her loft in an old tobacco warehouse, she was my wife.

2 comments:

  1. sheesh. that's lovely, micah.

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  2. I just read it and got chills.

    It was like when Lori and I watch something touching on television, and I just know her eyes are watering. Me, I'm a man, and mans don't tear up, so I get chills when something moves me.

    mans get moved sometimes.

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