Story Corner #6

by Ryan

So we started dating a lot … Rather than document every step, I thought I would just compile a top 10 list of memories that I have from that time.

By the time Jessica finally came around, I was dating a few different girls on and off. My family began to joke about it because all of their names started with “J.” One of the other girls I was already dating happened to be named Jessie. I am horrible with names. I thought I would simplify matters by transitioning over to calling both of them Jess. Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware that the Sherrills are very particular about their names. After trying out the new moniker on Jessica a few times and feeling like “this is really going to work out,” I was accosted by a 9 year old Bekah (same attention to detail, just a smaller body): “Jessica HATES being called Jess!” she bellowed. Jessica politely tried to soften her blow only to be met by Bekah’s continued insistence that “yes huh” she did hate the name and began citing instances when Jessica had said as much herself. Needless, to say I abandoned the Name Consolidation Effort and figured that based on Bekah’s passionate response I would be wise to return to using Jessica’s full legal given name.

Sam. Jessica has a younger brother Sam. He was 10-11 at the time we got married. He was a complete loose canon. He got very hyper, especially when guests came over. The Sherrills adopted California’s “3-Strikes” policy. In CA, if a criminal is convicted of a felony 3 times, he was automatically “out” (i.e. sent to jail) for life. At the Sherrill house, every time Sam would do something outrageous or crazy (i.e. yell, destroy a plant, eat a live squirrel, etc.) he would get a “strike”. Dorrie (Jessica’s mom) was typically the umpire “calling” the game for Sam. Throughout the afternoon/evening you would randomly hear chaos emanating from Sam’s general vicinity, which was followed shortly by Dorrie’s voice announcing “OK Sam … that’s strike 2!!” He was usually “out” by about 7:00pm, which meant he was in his room for the rest of the night.

On Sundays I would come over to Jessica’s family’s house a lot. We would usually go for a walk with whomever wanted to come because the list of acceptable Sunday activities is relatively short. We would always end up taking her dog with us. It was a dachshund. It was kind of a silly dog. For example, instead of laying like a normal dog, it would sprawl out on the floor like a teenage boy crashed out on his bed (i.e. on its belly with all its paws fully extended and sprawled). So “Heidi” would usually come on the walk too (unless Sam had already been sentenced to walking her in an effort to get him to expend some of his uber energy). Unfortunately for our walks, (and Sam’s too) Heidi’s little legs could only handle a few blocks before she would be dragging way behind. So the walks always ended up with someone having to turn back way early to give poor Heidi a break.

Shortly after deciding to get married, we began discussing our big plans. In the middle of one discussion Jessica blurted out in a semi-irritated voice “You know you have to buy me a ring … don’t you?” I quickly gathered that she wasn’t joking. I was horrified by the comment because it seemed so materialistic and greedy to me at the time. Of course I intended to buy her a ring! We had only been talking about marriage for a couple weeks by this point. Later, I came to find out that Jessica had previously progressed toward marriage only to be stifled by her boyfriend’s inability to actually go through with the purchase of a ring.

It is often said that when you are dating, you tend to hide your flaws because you are on your best behavior. To an extent, this is true. However some flaws are so mammoth and gaping that there is just no covering up those suckers. Such was my experience with my innate sense of misdirection. I have this gut feel for directions. I refer to it as “the force”. When I get a tentative question from Jessica as to whether I know where I am going, I like to assuage her concerns by announcing that I am driving “by the force” and thus don’t need any directions. My Force leads me the wrong way 90% of the time. It is only correct enough to make me second guess myself on those rare instances that it does in fact lead me in the correct direction. As we were dating in CA, I tried to take Jessica to the beach numerous times. This is about an hour and a half trip from lovely Tracy. We would always end up near the beach, but we only actually made it to the beach twice. We would literally unroll the windows and be able to hear the waves crashing or feel the sea mist in the air only to continue to make u-turns for the next hour never to find the beach. We would finally run out of time and have to just turn around and drive home, without ever even stepping out of the car. I really feel sorry for Jessica because of my namby-pamby sense of misdirection, but as my friend Kyle likes to say, “she knew what I was when she picked me up.”

… actually I am now realizing that this “top 10” is too much for me to write and you to read, so I will have to finish up with the next 5 next week.