Hell Freezes Over; Dukay Responsible
Well, people, let us all stop what we are doing and issue a collective gasp of shock and disbelief, because El Dukay, the man that I date, the boy that I love, has finally, FINALLY written his "How We Met Story."
Yes. I will give you a second to pick your jaws off of the floor.
(I would also like to add that this should cut my incoming email down by roughly 14,000%, because the number of requests for this story boggles the mind. BOGGLES.)
So, here it is, punctuated maybe on occasion by my own commentary, which is in bold, because WTF, DUKAY? But for the most part, it is very sweet, and he is a cutie pants, and he is also completely insane, because Dukay, did I just seriously have to edit your home address out of this story? I totally did. Poor Dukay does not understand the internet. I think we should all be glad that he did not add a paragraph listing all our social security and credit card numbers. So adorably trusting, my little snookums! So adorably not worried about a crazed murderer showing up on our doorsteps, clutching nothing but a hatchet and a doll made of human hair!
But, uh. Anyway. So, here it is. Did you want some cheesy college romance for your monday? Because baby, that is what you're about to get.
So... How did Miss Doxie & El Dukay meet?
by El Dukay
It all began my freshman year. We lived in a dorm that was in between the graduate student parking lot and the main part of the North Campus, where the school of law was located. We lived on the bottom floor of the dorm, and had a large window that overlooked the walkway.
My dorm roommate and I would be hanging out watching TV in our boxers. (Pants must come off when you are sitting around in the dorm room. Too much constriction.) We'd be there most afternoons, and so every day, we'd see the law students walking down to their cars.
One day, we looked out the window, and saw this gorgeous blond walking by. We rushed over in our boxers, and gawked, stared, drooled... whatever you want to call it. She was smoking hot, and had platinum blond hair. Being very creative, we named her "Hot Girl."
Seeing Hot Girl became our daily routine. I actually looked forward to this part of my day. It was nice relief from pledge training and classes. One day, Hot Girl walked by, and I turned and announced to my roommate that, "One day, she will be mine...Oh yes, she will be mine."
He said, "Whatever dude. You wish."
Time passed, and I finished my freshman year, and figured I would never see Hot Girl again. I never knew who she was.
Meanwhile, Ziz (Doxie's sister) and I had always stayed in touch over IM and email. We had been good friends in middle and high school. She said that she had a sister I should meet in law school. She told her sister that she had an undergrad friend who would be a fun person to meet. She thought we might have fun getting together for coffee or something; she didn't think it would be some big date. I'd never seen Doxie before, and had no idea who she was. By this point, she was finishing up law school, and I was finishing college.
(Edit by Miss Doxie: Ziz reports that Dukay jokingly asked her if her sister was hot. According to Ziz, she told him that I looked a lot better "now that she's had the Procedure," but that she declined to elaborate.)
Doxie was always busy, and was finishing up her last year of law school, so a lot of conflicting schedules had to be worked out. Finally, I convinced Miss Doxie to meet me for a drink. I told her that I would meet her up at 283, a bar in downtown Athens. I also told her that I would have on a pink button down shirt. (Yes... pink.)
So we set up the time. She was a little early, and I found out later that a scuzzy man in a pink shirt tried to hit on her before I got there. This worked in my favor. It set the bar of expectations much lower than they would have been previously. I would love to say that he was a mark put there by me, but he wasn't. I'm not that clever. (MD: My first pink shirt date had three whole teeth!)
When I walked in, I looked around the room. And there, looking at me and waving...was HOT GIRL.
I couldn't believe it. Ziz's sister was Hot Girl. I had no idea.
Obviously, I had to impress. There was no other option. We sat and had a couple of drinks and talked about all sorts of things. I suggested we go to a different bar, so we went somewhere with better wine. We kept talking, all the first date stuff. It turned out that she is the complete package. The rare, perfect combination of brains and beauty that you can never find together in one person. She was sweet and gentle with this ass-kicking exterior. She wore knee high stiletto black leather boots with everything - always. She loved animals. She had the greatest sense of humor and actually liked me. I had definitely out-kicked my coverage. (Women everywhere may want to ask their men friends what that means in this context.)
Afterwards, we walked to a bar with live acoustic music and tons of beer on tap. We sat down and this dude carrying a few bars of soap on a rope came up to us. He immediately hit on my date. I wasn't going to be an ass - after all, she was the most beautiful girl that had ever graced this place and who could blame him, really? Hell, I would have hit on her too. And yes - there really is such a thing as soap on a rope. I never thought it existed. Well, it does! I've seen it with my own two eyes!
Instead of telling this guy to fuck off, I started talking to him. Just asking him questions about everything. He liked talking about himself.
(MD: Dude, did he EVER. We spent an hour of our first date listening to a SOAP ON A ROPE salesman talk about his benefits plan. Who the fuck does that happen to? WHO?)
I decided to tell him that we were on our first date, and how I'd always known Doxie as Hot Girl. He liked the story and was really happy to be a part of it. He gave Doxie a free soap on a rope, and I bought him a beer.
We were ready to get out of there, so I told Doxie that a good friend's band was playing at another bar. They were a great Latin calypso jazz band playing originals and covers of groups like John Scofield and Micheal Camillo. They even had a steel drum player. We went and enjoyed the show (MD: People, herein we establish, once again, the disconnect between Dukay's music and my own music. To say that I "enjoyed" this show is a very bold statement, indeed. Let us instead say "I did not die during that show, but I thought about killing myself with a swizzle stick, because I do not like jam bands, at all, ever, and maybe I am only now admitting that I hated that concert." Hi, baby! I HATE THAT BAND. But I love you! Kisses!)
The show ended, and we talked a little more, and called it a night. No kiss, just a hug. (MD: Look at Dukay with the detail! I can't wait till he gets to the first time we Did It.)(Dear Mom: We have never Done It.) I made sure to walk her to her car and then walked back over to mine.
We stayed in touch for a while, but she was on the tail end of exams, and was busy with other things. We met up a few times and went on a few friend-like dates. Never any kisses. Her law school friends referred to me as "Junior" because I was so much younger than her. Four years younger, to be exact. So finally, two or three months after I'd first met her, I decided to have my dad come up to town to see the same live jazz band Doxie and I had seen on our first date, and to take both him and Doxie to dinner. (MD: And who agreed to see that awful band again? I did, people. Obviously, I was blinded by love.)
That night, I held her hand under the table at dinner. A true "G" rating. (MD: Holy shit, we were ten years old, apparently. Then we traded stickers!) We went across the street for the live show, which was awesome. (MD: ... ) Afterwards, we all went back to my house. We were standing around talking when my dad suddenly decided to give us a little alone time. So out of nowhere, he said, "Uh...I gotta go get some donuts! I'll be back in a few." He walked out. (MD: This was the most hilariously obvious move of all time, but I am 100% in favor of anything involving donuts.)
After he left, I pulled the single greatest "move" of my life. I was at one with The FORCE.
You men out there - this is top secret shit.
Use it wisely.
(MD: People, he is really, REALLY proud of this little shenanigan. Can you tell?)
I had never tried this before but it just came to me in a split second. We really were into each other - yet had never kissed - just hugs and now some hand holding. So she leans in to kiss me good night. And I kissed her for a second or two, and then...... I pulled away. (MD: WTF?) I said that I really liked her, and that we should do it again soon. And then I walked her to her car and she went home. (MD: RAGE. This is how I felt at that moment: RAGE.)
For two weeks, I didn't hear anything from her. I wondered if I'd ruined everything.
I later found out that the seed I planted with the "pull away" was much stronger than a kiss could have ever been. The FORCE was harnessed. It was, in fact, brilliant. I occupied her thoughts. She was thinking, "Who is this little shit that pulled away from me? Who in the HELL does he think he IS? NOBODY pulls away from ME!"
(MD: Now, this makes me sound like a big old vain something or other. But...well, yeah, I guess I am a big old vain something or other, because a COLLEGE kid wouldn't KISS me? Are you fucking KIDDING? He is supposed to me MADE of hormones and erections! This guy's mission statement is supposed to be "Getting to Third Base" and he won't KISS me?
Meanwhile, my friends thought this was the funniest shit they'd ever heard of in their lives, and were all, "Maybe he's saving himself for the prom!" and "I can't believe you kissed him. His parents are NEVER going to let you babysit again!")
Her friends felt the same way.
Needless to say, we somehow wound up running into each other, and I took her out to dinner. Soon, we were spending a lot of time with each other. I began to notice little things about her. Like, that she never ate the end of a french fry. She said the rest of the fry tastes better. Still to this day, when she finishes eating fries, there are all these little pieces of the ends of the fries left on her plate. Almost like seeds from grapes, shells from peanuts, or the tops of strawberries. But she eats the OTHER end of the fry. I am still completely befuddled.
But from then on - we made a perfect match. And it all started with meeting "Hot Girl" in person at 283 in Athens, on a blind date. After all those years, I was right. She IS mine. I love her with all my heart.
(MD: Aw, and I love him too. But I still don't love his music.)
So, there you have it, people! And that is how we went from this...
Doxie and Dukay in 2002
Dukay and Doxie in 2006
In four or so years. And hopefully, for many more...so long as he never makes me listen to a steel drum band covering Metallica songs ever, ever again.
And, so, now you know our story. And thus ends the schmoopy! I've got a lot for this site this week, actually, so I should be updating again soon; in the meantime, everyone have a good day, and special snuggly thanks to Dukay, for finally telling his story. Kisses to everyone!