We're not in Kansas anymore.
Right now I should be doing homework, but in true Morgan fashion I’m daydreaming, doodling, texting my one of my bests, Tom Hurdle (shout out), and looking up property management companies. Basically, I’m doing everything I can to avoid homework. … I’m such a bad student. Yay for being a super senior! I swear it’s my ADHD (self diagnosed). Regardless, I figured it was time to explain to you all (“y’all” for you southern folk) about how Dave and I met. It’s quite the story!
Caution: Some areas may contain ample amounts of “corny”. You’ve been warned.
It was the night before St. Patricks day and I had the intention of driving 2hrs to Manhattan, KS in the morning to spend the Saturday with some friends in Aggieville. After getting a call from the people I use to nanny for, asking if I could watch their adorable son that Saturday night, I decided a little extra cash wouldn’t hurt and opted out of the Ville.
The following morning, not knowing what to do with my newfound free day, I called up the one girl I knew would have something fun planned, my dear friend Kate. I was right, and in a matter of 30 minutes I was dressed and ready standing in her bedroom. Deciding we looked presentable enough, we hopped in the Honda and headed to the Pumphouse. Before Kate, I had never stepped foot in this place. After Kate, I stepped foot in there multiple times week. The Pump is one of the only places in Wichita’s Oldtown district that I don’t feel the need to have pepper spray open, ready, and held out infront of me at all times. Upon arrival we headed towards the outer back area where a group of Kates guy friends I had never met were playing some basketball game that they all quite sucked at. Sorry fellas 🙂 Feel free to blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol!
The only other girl around was our waitress, Megan, who little to my knowledge would serve a big purpose in Dave and I meeting. We sat, Kate drank, I ate, we joined in on some basketball, and had a pretty fun morning. Knowing full and well that I had to babysit later in the evening, I opted out of the serious drinking festivities. Around 5ish we decided to take a break and head back into town for a while. I fully planned on putting on some p.j.s and heading over to babysit once I got word that they needed me. Instead, Kate convinced me to come back out and just leave from the Pumphouse. Turns out that was the best decision of my life. We were back at the Pump enjoying the amazing weather out on the patio. Kate and her then bf (his loss) were pretty inseparable leaving me to people watch and chat with her guy friends from earlier, one of whom only addresses me as Debra from the sitcom Will and Grace. (Side note: the actor who plays Will in that show is building his house just down the street from where Dave and I live now). About an hour into our night, a group of people started walking our way. I didn’t notice at first, but once they got closer I realized it was our waitress from earlier. Being that I was the only sober person in the place and thinking I was probably going to have to leave soon, I didn’t really pay attention to them when they first walked up. While glancing down at my phone to check the time, a hand appeared infront of my face. Looking up, I caught the eyes of the guy who had put it there. He said something, but I didn’t hear it, I was too fixated. Slowly he walked over closer to me and introduced himself as Dave. I shook his hand, still dumbfounded, and reciprocated. We didn’t break eye contact, it was the weirdest thing, we just sat there for what seemed like no time at all just talking. Apparently it was a lot longer than either of us had thought. Crap, babysitting! I lost track of time and after realizing how late it was I text the family to see if they still needed me. It wasn’t all that late and their house wasn’t far away, I could still make it! They didn’t and although I was bummed that I missed out on some extra cash, I was pretty excited that I got to spend at least a little more time with Dave. He explained that he lived in Vancouver, BC and would be going back in a matter of 3 days. That didn’t stop me. After St. Patricks night, we hung out every chance we got until he left for Vancouver. The day after he got back home, we had already booked my flight to have me come visit. The rest is history.
There was not a single moment when we first met that I was analyzing, second guessing, trying too hard, making sure I said the right thing, or any of that other crap most people do when they are first intrigued with someone. It was just natural, as it always should be. 😉
Until next time,