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How I Met My Husband


Was it love at first sight when I met Billy?

I don’t know. 

I don’t really remember meeting him. 

I am therefore going to assume that this means no.

What I do remember is standing in the back of church on the day my housemates’ daughter was being dedicated. A couple of months prior, I had to move from my apartment after my roommate and our landlord had a miscommunication that resulted in an eviction notice taped to the door.

Our landlord was already the king of notes on the door. Nearly every night after work, I pulled into the driveway, bumped into his garage door so that my car wouldn’t jut out over the sidewalk, and walked up the staircase to find a post-in note slapped to the screen. Please stop running into the garage door. Please don’t hang towels on the banister. Please turn off porch light.

Ultimately, it was the porch light that would be our demise.

Even though I explained to him that we were two single girls living in downtown Los Angeles and coming home after dark, he insisted that we leave the light off. Actually, he didn’t insist at all. He nodded like what I was saying made perfect sense… and then he started coming into our apartment while we were out during the day to turn it off himself.

One of these days, my roommate was scared senseless when she heard the front door open while she was in the shower. What transpired next is vague, but basically involved her telling him that entering without permission was not appropriate and that it’s okay to flush toilet paper in the United States. That’s another story. But the point is that was bizarre and that it resulted in 30 days to find a new place to live.

Thankfully, when I shared my sad, sad story with a couple at my church, they offered me temporary sanctuary in their upstairs apartment. This arrangement was more than welcome since I was 2,000 miles from home, had been in LA for six months, would struggle to pay market rate for an apartment in this city, and was therefore searching for a place to lay my head.

They are a terrific family, and I enjoyed sharing life with them, including the dedication of their daughter. And it was this fine Sunday when I found myself standing in the back of the church, trying to think through a blessing to write on a notecard. 

Then, a guy I had seen visiting at the church a couple times came walking over to me. He began talking, and I just remember thinking, “Now I really can’t think of anything to write.” Hmmm… too practical? Perhaps. I also was thinking, “Who is this person? And why is he talking to me?” 

So I did what I thought was normal. I said, “Hi. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

His response? “Yes, Sarah, we have.”

Oh dear. 

5 comments

  1. Dang girl, you crack me up so. much. Thank you for yet another joy filled hilarious ride through your life. I need things to laugh about right now and this story was just the ticket. Love ya to pieces!

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  2. So glad you enjoyed it, Rachel! I am working on Part II. :)

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  3. Jiji eres genial en tu descripcion de los acontecimientos.

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  4. Mary B2:13 PM

    Enjoyed the read.

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