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, this fact must be understood:
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. It was probably 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.
Mine was a wonderful job. I answered student questions and was nice to them. Always. A smile on my face, a laugh, a soft shoulder when needed. It was easy to be nice in such a fun job.
Of course there was a bit more to the job. Substantively, I had to know what was going on with the members’ various activities, because I was the one in the office when the 1st year students had questions. Because that was my job. The BSA members were all nice, and kept me up to date on their programs.
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 argue the case in front of a panel of judges. The students had a million questions, and they were also apprehensive, because it was an important part of their first year. They asked ME all of those questions.
But Monte was in charge and wouldn’t let me know what was going on. He wouldn’t answer my questions, so I couldn’t answer theirs. Monte wouldn’t keep me informed or involved. I invariably had no answer to give to the poor student who really needed one.
Now, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, I really hate to look stupid. 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, and I quote:
“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 the poor guy asked 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.
The blond guy 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 tall, faceless blond guy. Standing there, hands on his hips, shaking his head and clearly thinking “what a bitch she is not very helpful.”
John did not propose to me then and there. The fool didn’t even ask me out.
In fact, we didn’t even cross paths again that we know about during the two years we were there together. We met again in DC 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 is an 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 more than 30 years.
* * *
This is an old piece that I’m replaying for Valentine’s Day because, well, it’s one of my favorite “love” stories. And because there are lots of new followers who didn’t read it. If you already read it, you can stop here. See? I told you I was nice!
FiftyFourandAHalf 
A sweet ending to the story! ❤
I hope Monte at some point got what he deserved.
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Sadly, Monte seems to be a big shot lawyer. I imagine he is still a jerk, though.
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Jerks seldom change. 😦
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Sadly, you’re right!
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It is a lovely love story and worthy of replaying. Hope your VD was fab!
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Thanks, Peg. It was fine. Hope yours was too.
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Oh my. I’m surprised you didn’t levitate:). I had a man call me to explain to me why my opinion of a certain education exec was wrong–and why I should support him instead of questioning his appointment. While he didn’t use Monte’s words–pretty close. And the tone? Ugh. To this day, I have trouble smiling and saying hello!
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There are far too many Monte’s in the world!
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“He deserved that name” That made burst out laughing! So it’s not possible that he really did think you had a pretty head (which I’m sure you did)? 😉 Great post, Elyse. – Marty
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Well, I DID have a pretty head, but that was beside the point!
I decided when I posted this that if I ever get a small dog I will name him “Monte.” It fits the personality of so many small dogs!
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I love this story. Monty is a bigger jerk every time.
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Pretty much!
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I missed this one somehow, even though I’m an old follower. Thanks for the rerun! I love hearing how couples met! ❤
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I’m sure I will re-run it again 😏. But it is one of my favorites! And you’re one of my first followers — when we were both newbies!
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Hugely LOL!!!!!!! Right now. So funny!
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Funny is kind of the story of my life!
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So…when you “re-met” did he remember who you were? Did you remember him?
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It took us a while (months) to put the pieces together, and then John remembered first. One funny thing is I can still picture the incident — me standing at my desk furious, and the tall blond guy standing in front of me. But the memory has no face — yet I can see the way John stands with his hands on his hips and shakes his head when he is really annoyed (as he was).
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It’s better this way. Otherwise he may not have asked “the bitch” out!
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Absolutely. Actually when I was dating the other guy, John and I tended to gravitate towards each other at social events — and insult each other (jokingly). We have very similar senses of humor. When we started dating several people were shocked, thinking we didn’t even like each other
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Good read. Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Thanks! And welcome!
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Some people get hit with Cupid’s arrows, others ….. well 2, have this badass story <3. Love it!
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Others get screamed at by the love of their life … oh well. The evolution of John’s side of the story over the years has been quite something.
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This is a brilliant Valentine’s Day story, Elyse. Love it!
Do you know what ever happened to Monte?
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I looked him up just now. He’s (not surprisingly) a lawyer in his own firm. I might even like him now, who knows!
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Love the story, Elyse. We have talked about this before, but my ex went to that very same law school in the late 70s and I worked at the very famous engineering school just down river. I remember the moot court angst. My ex (also John) was a member of the Lincoln Inn Society and I think those guys helped him with his questions…
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I remember. Wonder if I’d recognize his face! I don’t remember anybody from back then — and several of them have been in the news over the years.
As difficult as it was for the students, I think that there were a lot of resources at their disposal. They were the lucky law students!
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Love this story. Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Thanks, Janet; it’s one of my favorites. Happy VD to you, too.
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John’s version seems like the most-likely account. Happy Valentine’s Day … and Spring Training is about to begin!!!!!
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No, no, no. You can tell my story is the correct one — I don’t try to make myself look good, and I portray John as completely innocent. John tries to make me look bad by exaggerating my actions, which is totally unnecessary!
John’s still in college basketball territory … gotta get another TV.
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John is completely innocent … and I can’t imagine him exaggerating your actions. Meanwhile, let me guess … you hate college basketball.
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I don’t really hate any sports. But he gets so agitated watching them that sooner or later I will need to give him CPR.
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At least you are willing to give him CPR
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❣️
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Most of the time!
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Thank god the story didn’t end with you and Monte ‘finding each other’ later in life and falling madly in love… 😉
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Not very likely! Although I did google him a while ago and he is probably somebody I would like now. As long as I wasn’t trying to work with him!
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Awwww so romantic 😉
But seriously, in my experience, the best relationships are built on “rocky” foundations. Happy Valentine’s day!
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You’re probably right, Gabe. If you can forgive the initial stuff, you can let a whole lot else slide — the key to a happy marriage! Happy VD to you too.
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What a great “how me met” love story. It was meant to be. Thanks for sharing it again. 💘
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Thanks for reading it again. It is one of my favs!
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Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Ain’t that the truth? Where’s Monte today? Did you cover your tracks?
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He’s an overpaid attorney somewhere or other … he deserved that name.
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Yeah, I also wondered what happened to him, and I’m guessing he’s now either with the Trump administration or at Comcast.
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Nope. Overpriced lawyer…
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Pingback: What’s your Happily-Ever-After? #Valentine #humor | Barb Taub
I, for one, have never doubted your niceness for a moment! Nor your ability to bazooka any chap who deserved it!
[Bonus points for your opening invocation of Marley’s ghost, btw. So many great little turns of phrase in that book, unknown to people who don’t know anything beyond the “visited by three ghosts” aspect. People who don’t even know that Dickens didn’t know what there was particularly dead about a doornail…]
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A Christmas Carol is one of my favorite books. My eldest sister read it to my brother and me when we were tiny kids — and we all quote it all the time. There are so many nuggets in that book!
I don’t normally fire at folks unless they deserve it … John has deserved it many times, but not THAT time!
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We had a tradition when I was growing up: my dad would read Christmas Carol aloud, a little bit at a time each evening, starting the day after Thanksgiving and finishing up on Christmas eve. So many wonderful bits — we quote it all the time too, and used to shout certain lines all together, in unison with my father.
“What?? The one as big as me?!”
“Dwindled down into a bedpost.”
Fezziwig’s calves that “shone like moons.”
Ahhhh… 🙂 Thanks for the invitation to skip down memory lane!
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The one I use most often (which hardly anyone ever gets) is: “What? Are there no prisons? No Workhouses???”
Wonderful, wonderful book. Years ago, just before we moved, my sister in law gave me a collection of three Dickens Christmas novelas including A Christmas Carol. I promptly packed it and have yet to find it…what a lost gem!
We used to have the same Christmas routine with my sister Beth, except that we had to watch the movie on Christmas Eve — with me under the covers in terror for most of it, and asleep for the rest.
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“DECREASE THE SURPLUS POPULATION!” seems an unfortunately common echo in my ear, these days…
Which of the movies did y’all watch?
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Then it was the Alisdair Sim version (I saw him many years later in a play in London — wonderful actor). These days I love the George C Scott version — so realistically portrayed.
And yes, that line is in my head a lot too. Sadly. Wish we could decrease the surplus population in the GOP.
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Sigh. Yes — starting with all the bloat of ’em in federal and state legislatures…
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I absolutely LOVE this! Made me laugh and laugh some more! Glad you and John re-connected. Definitely THE most fascinating “how we met” story I have ever heard!
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So glad you liked it, Jill. It still cracks me up. My roommate from the time recalled the incident from when it happens — so there is another “witness” to the story.
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I love it when you tell stories. hugs and happy valentines .
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Thanks, Barb. I think I’ve told them all though! 😦 Happy VD to you too!
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Happy Valentine to everyone
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Back at ya!
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Forget about that needy whining little prick Romeo–now THIS is what I call a love story!
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😂. Thanks Barb!
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And thanks for the ping-back. I’m over to your spot as soon as I finish comments here!
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Love your love story! Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Thanks — it is close to my heart! Happy VD to you, too. Love your new gravitar.
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