When I tell this story, I always have to put in a disclaimer. Sort of like Dickens at the beginning of A Christmas Carol, when he says
“it must be understood that Marley was dead, otherwise nothing strange and wonderful could have happened.”
In this case, it must be understood that I was really, really nice to everyone. Promise me you’ll remember that.
Once upon a time, I had a job at a law school. The most fun job I’ve ever had. I was the administrative assistant to a student organization, the BSA. The Boy Scouts of America, law school chapter. The BSA members were 2nd and 3rd year students who did a lot to make the first year students happier during their (relatively miserable and difficult) first year. They did orientation, taught legal writing, answered questions on where to go, what to do. The office was large, with comfy chairs and a couch, a full free coffee pot. A good, friendly place to hang out. The members did, and so did a core of 1st years who, naturally, tried to become members for their 2nd and 3rd years.
It was a wonderful job. Basically I answered questions and was nice to people. Always. A smile on my face, a laugh, a soft shoulder when needed. It was easy to be nice in such a fun job.
Substantively, I had to know what was going on in the members various activities, because I was the one in the office when the 1st year students had questions. I had to know what was going on to give the answers. Because that was my job. The BSA members were all nice. Except Monte. He wasn’t. He was a jerk. Totally uncooperative. He deserved that name.
Monte was in charge of a very important program that was one of two mandatory moot court programs for all 1st year students. Essentially, it’s where they learned how to present and argue a case. A whole case. They write the briefs and argued the case in front of a panel of judges.
The students had a million questions, and they were also apprehensive, because it was so important. But Monte was in charge and wouldn’t let me know what was going on. He wouldn’t answer my questions. He wouldn’t keep me informed or involved. I invariably had no answer to give to the poor student who really needed one.
Now, it might surprise you to know this, but I really hate to look stupid. So one day I’d had enough of being unable to help, unable to answer questions I was supposed to answer. Unable to do my job. So I took Monte into the back room and politely explained in the nicest possible way, why he had to do things my way.
He responded “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” And he left.
Me, except I’m blond. And in color.
To this very day I have never been so mad at anyone.
I went back to my desk fuming, steam coming out of my ears, angry tears, the works. As I stood there, shaking mad, a tall, blond 1st year student entered the office, came up to me and said – oh I don’t remember what he said. But it was a question about that program. Monte’s program.
“I DON’T KNOW. YOU WILL HAVE TO ASK MONTE WHO IS A COMPLETE JERK!” I screamed at the tall, completely innocent blond guy.
He stood there, put his hands on his hips, shook his head and left the office. He never returned.
I remember it clearly. Well, except all I can see in my memory is the outline of a faceless blond guy, shaking his head, clearly thinking “what a bitch she is not very nice.”
John did not propose then and there.
In fact, we didn’t ever cross paths again that we know about during the two years we were there together. We met again through a guy I was dating who worked with John. Years after I broke up with the other guy, John asked me out after we met up again at a party.
Whenever someone asks us the “how did you two meet?” question, well, I make sure I tell the story. Because John claims I fired nuclear weapons at him, which, I think you will agree, is a slight exaggeration. And it makes me look bad.
Really, I didn’t shoot at him.
But hey, my husband can never claim that he didn’t know I could be a bitch. And that has been worth its weight in gold (or nukes) for almost 26 years.
* * *
I wrote this up after Arindam, of Being Arindam suggested I do it. And because there is nothing I like to do more than humiliate myself. Publicly.
FiftyFourandAHalf 
Great story, Elyse! I suspect John likes strong women…
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John is a glutton for punishment, actually.
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Hi Elyse,
I’ve seen you around and just decided to follow you home.. so to speak… not in a creepy way, just to learn more about you.
So don’t get mad when I say I expected Monte to be your husband. 😀
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If I had married Monte, He would be dead and I would be in jail! And I cannot imagine marrying anyone with that name!
Thanks for following me Julie. I will check out your blog when I am not on my phone!
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Awww! I like that your very first encounter with him was one of loathing and snark. This lets him know right off the back that it is best not to cross you…
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He didn’t really learn the lesson as completely as I would hope. But then he does have other good features, so I let these lapses slide.
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I had to pause and come read this in the middle of your She’s A Maineiac interview, and I’m so glad I did! That is FANTASTIC. (Although at first I thought MONTE might turn out to be your future beloved!)
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Had I married Monte, I’m pretty sure I would have been involved in a murder-suicide. God he was SUCH an ass.
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Pingback: Firsts and Lasts…with Elyse from FiftyFourandAHalf « She's a Maineiac
I don’t think you humiliated yourself, but it can be dangerous playing with weapons…………
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Ah, but I didn’t shoot at him. Well, not with anything there was a waiting period for, anyway.
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Remember that. But then again, you get what you pay for!
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Great story, and maybe Monte, in spite of all his faults and failings, should be called “Monte the Matchmaker”. 🙂
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Well, maybe if John had proposed then and there. It was, actually about 8 years later. I think the term you really want is “Monte the Bitchmaker.” That one fits!
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LOL – That’s funny, but there’s no way that I’m going to agree with you. Nope, not happening… 😉
Wish I’d seen this earlier – About 6 hrs ago, WordPress stopped letting me know that folks like you have replying to my comments and replies. The wonderful and miraculous orange thingy up in the right hand corner froze and hasn’t worked since. WordPress will probably soon write a post about how happy this has made me, and what an innovative idea this is to make things not work for me.
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I think you are just being disagreeable, Chris!
My orange thing-y just started working again. I don’t like it, though. Because my comments tend to wander off into cyberspace when I use it. But I think you’re right about WordPress’ take on it. I just forgot that it makes me happy.
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Yeah, you’re probably right, so “Monte the Bitchmaker” it is! And yes, he was an asshole and you were sorely provoked.
I didn’t like the orange thingy either when they first started it, but then I kinda got used to it, since I didn’t have your problem with disappearing comments, which would have really pissed me off. Wait a minute… what am I saying? This is WordPress, where we are always delighted and also grateful when we take the time to make a comment and then it disappears. Who are we to question the onward and constant march of functionally dysfunctional progress here at WordPress?
We’re just bloggers and we must always remember our place, cause if we all went away, WP would never even miss us – because they’d be too busy innovating stuff to notice we were gone.
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Love the story and really needed to read it right now! Thanks for sharing (and I mean it). I’m sitting amongst my Montes with a smile on my face. You just know that has to confuse them!
They say life is a circle. I’m glad your’s circled back to the man you share your life with. Truly a fine love story.
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Thanks, MDR. And if the smiles don’t work, missiles are always good! The other thing that I often use to combat the Montes of the world is a simple “I’m sure you didn’t mean to be rude BUT…”
Welcome back. Hope you’re doing OK, Montes not withstanding.
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“He deserved that name.”
Priceless. Ya made me laugh agin’.
Suffer Monte. Suffer.
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I be Monte is oblivious to any insults he throws about in his ignorance. And so, everyone who works for him is no doubt suffering, not him. He probably doesn’t even realize that he has a lame name.
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Of course, Monte is probably chasing ambulances now — on all fours — with his power tie flapping in the wind like a drooling tongue.
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No, Monte is probably doing securities law for Facebook …
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I wonder if I should begin blogging. I have volumes of humiliating moments in my checkered past.
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It works for me! It is fun but very time-consuming. As I recall, you have a life!
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Wow, that’s how you met John. Cool.
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Yes, only he’ll kill me when he finds out I blogged about it!
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You met yourself a patient and understanding man. Maybe he already had a good understanding of women folk. Obviously, he didn’t judge you on the first impression. What a cool and gracious fella you have.
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Well, he is pretty cool. But truthfully, it took a while to piece the story together in his brain, so he didn’t remember his first impression. By the time he made the connection he knew me differently — as a friend.
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You scared that man outta the office.Men don’t like to see women cry. LoL! Lucky for you both he didn’t remember. 🙂
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Great story. Reminds me in a way of how I met my wife. At work I loved sucking on lemon drops and then crunching them. The noise racket, so to speak of the crunching, drove this woman a few offices away from mad, and she really hated it to the point I found out somehow. Anyway, months later we were dating, and have been married since 1985. So, the morale of the story is this: when I was out looking for dates, nothing happened; but when I started irritating people, I got attention and a soul mate date. Thank you for sharing a great story.
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That’s true. Being nice to people is so overrated. Perhaps we should set up an on-line dating service for people to really find their soul mates. We could call it “Pissing Partners” or something like that.
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I thought for SURE you were going to rehabilitate Monte and end up with him in the end. I guess that’s only in the movies – in real life, jerks rarely change.
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I think it is safe to say that I could not have married anyone named Monte. Nope. Not even if he wasn’t a total jerk!
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I love this. I love that he married you! I once told my husband I wanted to gouge his eyes out with a spoon, and he married me anyway. It seems we all have our skeletons, some a little more horrifying than others! (I think you’re OK.) 🙂
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I think your story means that your husband just appreciated how creative you are — I mean seriously. A boring person would have just said “I want to gouge your eyes out.” But you, writer that you are, needed more flair. Well played on the part of your husband, I think!
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Ah, Elyse, I love your humanness, your peace, your tranquility and your wild crazy emotions…
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OK, PW. I get the humanness. I get the wild crazy emotions, but where, tell me where, did you see peace or tranquility in this post. I am quite sure I did not mention the moon (although, now that I think of it, I should have responded to Monte by mooning him, but still that is different.)
🙂
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The peace and tranquility were at the beginning of the post as you were holding in all those emotions ;)…and in other posts you have written True peace comes from being ourselves at all times, don’t you think?
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OK. I’ll go along with that! Peace and tranquility to you, too, PW!
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I did not see where this was going, that it was a story of how you met your husband…what a great story! I love that John actually saw steam come out of your ears and still wanted to be with you. That’s love. My poor husband didn’t see that side of me until after we were married.
I hate Monte.
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John didn’t want to be with me for many many years, actually. Once dementia started, he was OK with me. Then I spent our first date picking warts.
Don’t be too hard on Monte. He has to live with that name. 😉
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I know a Monte who is a creepo and a half. I wonder if they’re the same person?
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If he’s sanctimonious on top of it all, then yup, same guy. I think this one is in California, though. That’s where he was from, anyway.
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No humiliation at all Elyse. I think it’s wonderful that you shared this special story. Always interesting to know how fellow bloggers met their partners.
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Thanks GOF.
I’m only a little bit humiliated by being nasty to the man of my dreams … mostly I love the story. But that year in particular I was so nice that folks tended to throw up upon meeting me. Seriously. You can ask my old roommate, Bonny. She remembers me coming home the night this happened. She frequently wanted to slap me. Somehow we remain friends, but only because I stopped being so damn nice. I shoot way more missiles now!
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I love when I am reading along and the twist to the story makes a perfect ending. Great one. And happy you shared it.
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Thanks, Bella!
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Can’t add much more to what’s already been said. You have a great story to tell your children and grandchildren…or maybe not! 😉
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Thanks, Lorna. Our son, now 20, just shakes his head when he hears it. Someday he will repeat it, though, I’m sure!
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OMG I LOVE THIS POST!!!! So funny and a very unexpected twist at the end, did not see it coming =P
Thanks for sharing 🙂
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I thought I had given it away with the title, but apparently not! Usually folks know that somehow we ended up together — because we’re usually at dinner telling the story. They have a clue that I didn’t provide here.
Thanks for stopping by, Janice.
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My pleasure, I always enjoy your writing, Elyse 🙂
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🙂
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Fast forward and imagine Monte in the boardroom. Imagine being his assistant. Yikes! We’ve all seen this kind at work. Apparently they are born this way.
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Oh yeah. I’m sure he’s a dream boss… and dream husband. 😉 Yup.
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Very cool story. I love to hear these–how people who end up together start off on a rocky path. Someday, when I start a new blog that is not about poop, I will tell my own.
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Thanks, Les. And if I were your significant other, I would appreciate your restraint!
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Great story! And not extremely different from the meeting of me and my girl.
A great story that deserves to be retold!
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Thanks! We are all waiting to hear your story, Guap!
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Not quite as detailed, but this pretty much covers it… http://guapola.wordpress.com/2012/02/13/the-most-wonderful-girl-in-the-universe/
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Oh, I went over and re-read it — and remembered it. I love the Oreos at the jewelry store — what a romantic!
Many happy days together, Guap!
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Awww, what a great story. I’ve only ever heard “don’t worry your pretty head about it” used ironically — I don’t know what I’d do if someone said it to me and meant it.
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Yes, there aren’t that many jackasses in the world. Well, yes there are, but most of them have learned to be jackasses in different, more PC ways.
What a turd he was!
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I think I’ve worked with Monte’s twin brother, also in the law. What a great story. John probably walked away from the encounter thinking “that’s a girl who I can respect”, which is where it all starts [blows into her Kleenex].
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No, I’m quite sure that John would have liked to push me in front of a car at that point. He came around, though.
Monte had a twin? Lord God, deliver us from evil. Amen!
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Love and destiny. Who can argue with fate? I enjoyed every bit of your exciting love story. It shows honesty, uniqueness, a thrilling twist that you don’t see in princess-like happily ever after fairy tales. When we are being true to ourselves, that’s when magic…and love begins!
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What a nice comment, IT. Yes, I am lucky to have found my husband, and to not have offended him forever!
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I agree – Monte gets some credit. Chances are if your husband had any interaction with Monte at all prior to your ‘comment’ – he probably completely agreed with you, and figured you were a very smart woman.
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Maybe you’re right. I should unveil Monte’s full name, address and current job, right here on the internet. So that anyone who might Google him would know just what kind of a guy he is. You know, give credit where credit is due…
Nah. I am still way to nice to do that. Although it is tempting!
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I was tempted to do so for my old boss in a post I wrote about how I used to slam the phone down on her…on her voice mail messages, that is. Then just this week, with my worst boyfriends….
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I learned not to do that the hard way. Early on, I wrote one of my best pieces and mentioned someone’s real, actual name. The woman’s MOTHER contacted me and told me I was mean, and that I didn’t understand the breadth and power of the internet. She made me feel rotten, and I pulled the piece. So I won’t tell who Monte really is, although anyone reading this who knows a Monte probably knows whether he is the one!
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Oh, and your old boyfriends piece was a classic! (http://notquiteold.wordpress.com/2012/05/18/kissing-frogs/)
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I loved this story! I had no idea the ending was coming. I love happy surprises. Talk about strong first impressions! My first impression of Jim was, “oh, who was that weird but gorgeous guy sniffing all the candles…”
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It is my very favorite of all the stories I have told so many times that I needed to start a blog so that people who actually know me won’t kill me if I tell it just one more time.
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That’s a great “How we met” story. Monte should have been in your wedding party. 😉
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I considered hanging him by his heels as a decoration in the church, but, then he IS a lawyer, so I refrained. Pity, really.
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The surprise twist to the story was just that … a surprise. So, is this the first time you have given Monte credit for the initial meeting with your husband? (I say as I’m running away as fast as I can.)
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Oh, Frank, you are cruel.
Generally I will admit that an old boyfriend introduced us. That gets folks wondering enough (only later do I say, no, I’d broken up with the old guy 4 years before John and I started dating).
But Monte? It’s a wonder he didn’t ruin the whole thing!
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Ah .. but you know I’m a good sport. Monte must be a piece of work … and good riddins’!
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The 20 year old I was when this happened hopes he has reformed. The 55-year-old knows he didn’t.
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Monte was an Azzhat. You were without doubt very kind. I am surprised your husband remembered you single impropriety all those years later, what a memory.
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Ahhhh, I had written a whole interesting response and then poof, it was gone!
I was very young and very flirtatious. It was really easy being nice, as the folks were young, too, nervous, and well, just in need of a helping hand. They were nice to me, too, and I have many friends from that era.
As for John, well he remembers everything. He is positively brilliant, which is often really cool and equally often incredibly annoying! But he is a good guy, and I’m generally glad I didn’t hit him with any of those missiles!
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John has nowhere to hide, you know. Sorry, John.
What a wonderful story about how you two met. Life is twisted and warped and diabolically humorous sometimes. How delightful that you have had the privilege of carrying this story all these years, and that you’ve decided to share it with us today. It beats “we met at a bar over drinks” any day of the week. Truth can be deliciously hilarious. At least, when you’re the one doing the writing. Fun struff, and thanks for sharing!
I was going to say something about Monte’s testicles needing to be removed, but bigsheepcommunications already covered that territory. My version was intended to be a little less polite, but I’ve leave it alone out of respect for your readers. Still, I can’t help envisioning ….
“He deserved that name.”
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
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You know, I bet that name is responsible for him being such a jerk. Oh, that and coming from parents who would name him that.
And, yes, I love the story. It is the only one of my stories that my husband doesn’t leave the room upon the 100th recitation!
Thanks for the comments. And I had lost your blog — glad to find you again. Thanks Word Press (:()
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Same thing has happened to me with several blogs, and I’m always delighted when someone comments and then I get to “find” them all over again.
Great story.
Please don’t get me started on men who disrespect women. I once worked for a guy who actually had the nerve to tell me a “funny joke” about a woman with big bazookas, as he was staring at my big bazookas. Something along the lines of women with big bazookas never needing to work. As if owning our own personal flotation devices automatically filled our bank account. (Obviously he failed to see the irony behind his train of thought, considering that I worked for him at the time. Then again, he was incapable of any mental heavy lifting anyway, so it wasn’t like I was surprised. Just annoyed, and definitely NOT amused).
Please, don’t get me started. Really.
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Oh, Lord. Those men who don’t know any better than to stare at your boobs. I must have used this line a thousand times: “Um, my eyes are higher up!” (On occasion, I might have added more colorful terms, but I wouldn’t swear to it.)
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Now after reading this post of your s I can proudly say my post got its worth. What a lovely story! But let me tell you, you really fired missiles that day. 🙂 These memories are priceless, I am sure just must be thanking you for giving him such a wonderful moment. You both are made for each other. Lots of good wishes for both of you. 🙂
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I am really sorry for the typing mistake; please read John instead of Just . 🙂
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Thanks, Arindam. I enjoyed telling the story, so thanks for suggesting it. And I may just start calling him “Just” instead of “John”!
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Ha ha! Now please do not fire one more missile at John by calling him just. 🙂
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OK, if you insist!
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Well done. I assume Monte holds some political office now, or married Anne Coulter…they would deserve each other….
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Oh what a wonderful image, Cooper. Perfect. No, Monte does not hold any political office today, he’s just a lawyer. And likely a Republican. But I’d bet he’s still a twit.
He was married to a really nice woman. I would bet he is divorced by now, though.
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Hi,
What a fantastic story. Monte sounds like one of those people that always thinks they are better than anyone else, and of course their way is always right. I would of had steam coming out of my ears as well. 😀
I love the way you met your husband, that is priceless. 🙂
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Absolutely, Mags. Monte thought he was smarter than anyone else. He wasn’t. There were a few much smarter than him — and I married one of them!
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I had a professor in college who would deliver his lectures always punctuating the highlights of his lectures with “to know is to control.” I learned along the way, he was right. I didn’t like not knowing, and I didn’t like feeling out of control. Such a memorable ending for you, Elyse.
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Yes, Monte was a control freak. AND a jerk!
This is probably my favorite story. It still cracks me up. And thinking about Monte’s attitude still makes me steam.
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Monte, the information hoarder, was no doubt the kid at the playground screaming…”it’s mine”, “it’s mine!” So glad the story had such a happy ending.
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I’m pretty sure that he’s still somewhere screaming Mine! And who knows, maybe in the intervening 35 years he has learned how to treat women. Somehow, though, I doubt it.
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Hahaha. We all have an evil side if someone pushes the right buttons.
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Evil? Moi? Remember, I did NOT fire any missiles.
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So you contend…
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How much did my husband pay you to say that?
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The contract becomes invalid if I divulge that information.
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Lawyers always put in those clauses. Sigh.
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I loved this. I had no idea that was coming.
Great story, and Monte was a shithead although I probably shouldn’t worry my pretty little head over it.
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No, Speaker7, don’t worry your pretty little head about jerks. Just turn that frown up-side down. Know what I mean?
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I think if Monte made it through law school without being castrated, then really you were much nicer than you had to be ; )
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After this incident, I told students to call him at home. Oh, and he’s rarely there before 11 …
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Too nice.
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Yes, but his wife, who had to get up early, wasn’t. Somehow, she got a little tiffed at him. It was diabolical. I imagine he is divorced by now. 🙂
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Forgive me for underestimating you : )
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my comment , exactly.
minus the polite language.
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You think I should have cut his a new one or castrated him myself? Yeah, probably. But crime never pays when you are surrounded by lawyers and wannabes!
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🙂
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