I love St. Patrick's Day.
You may find it odd that I'm talking about my love of a little holiday considering my posts about my evolving and oftentimes not-so-favorable view on a couple of other holidays (Halloween and Valentine's Day), but this day is special to me.
It has nothing to do with being Irish (which I am, slightly) or drinking green beer (which I have done) or dancing an Irish jig (which I may or may not have done at some point).
But it has everything to do with my husband.
I shared recently about my love of sunrises due to getting engaged at that time of day. My love of St. Patty's goes back a bit prior to that.
I met my husband at Chili's ("Chili's is the new golf course, it's where business happens." -name the person who said that...). I was a server and he was a host. It was love at first sight...
Or not.
When I started working at Chili's, I was just ending my manager days at Starbucks. I had decided to return to school full-time and needed a job I could work less hours at but make a decent living. Enter serving. In those early days at Chili's, my "manager side" wasn't far from the surface.
One day, after I'd been at Chili's for about a month, I noticed a gentleman loitering around the host stand. We had personal information there (phone numbers for the servers, schedules, etc.) and my guard instantly went up. I wanted to protect the privacy of the employees. We didn't need some creep getting phone numbers and other private information, right?
Well... the "creep" was Marc. He was a host. I thought I had met everyone who worked there, but I was wrong. He wasn't trying to get his "stalk" on, he was trying to do his job. At the host stand.
But, I didn't know that. So, in most assertive, manager-type, I-mean-business tone, I approached this menace and said, "Excuse me, can I help you find something?"
Marc turned, smiled and calmly said, "No, I"m ok, can I help you find something?"
Realizing my mistake I asked, "Do you work here?"
"Yes, do you?" (He was teasing me at this point--all the servers wore blue or red polos. The hosts didn't have a "uniform" they just dressed nicely.)
I managed a reply of "no, I'm fine" and then I ran away.
Literally.
I turned around and ran back to the kitchen. I was bright red. I was sweating. I was mortified.
I spent the rest of my shift avoiding him. He would walk towards me and I would turn the other way. He would help me clear a table and I would yell "thanks" as I quickly made my escape.
Later he told me that he spent the majority of the next shifts we worked together trying to get my attention and talk to me. He certainly had my attention, but I was still too embarrassed to let him approach me. In fact I would say we were spending the same amount of energy keeping an eye on each other--he in trying to talk to me, me in trying to avoid him.
About another month passed and it was St. Patrick's Day. A bunch of the servers were going out downtown and invited me along. It was my first time hanging out with the group so I dragged my roommate with me.
Walking into the bar, I almost stopped in my tracks. I felt my face get red and the sweat start. He was there. And he was walking towards us with a big smile...
Because he went to high school, in Milwaukee, with my roommate. Small world.
As the evening unfolded I actually talked to Marc a little. I stopped running away and started to enjoy his company. It was also the first time I heard him sing...he belted out Tom Jones' "Delilah" to a very entertained crowd during karaoke. A born performer.
St. Patty's Day wasn't the beginning of our relationship (that didn't start for another month or so) but it was the end of my avoiding him. And, just to showcase how naïve I was--I initially thought he was interested in my roommate. He told me later that he spent all of St. Patty's trying to impress me--including by singing. And I had no idea.
Even when he asked me out eventually, I didn't realize he was asking me out on a date. Until I turned him down and then realized what was going on. So then I asked him out.
Our little love story. Never a dull moment.
So St. Patrick's Day isn't an "anniversary" in the traditional sense--but it's a special day to us.
It's the anniversary of when I stopped being scared of my future husband.
Not a picture from St. Patrick's Day, but an older pic of us that I love.
xo Sara