Member-only story
My Real-Life Meet Cute From 40 Years Ago Today
Readers, I married him
That morning, I pulled my greasy hair into a ponytail, skipped makeup, and rushed out the door so I wouldn’t be late for class registration.
There was no point in dolling up when I’d be standing in lines all morning melting in the unusually hot and humid early fall weather. I might as well wait to shower until after registration.
No one told me this was the day they’d take a picture to grace my student ID and the campus photo directory for the next four years. Or that I would meet my future husband in line.
These were the Byzantium days before online registration. The process had two steps. First, we had two minutes with a generic faculty advisor to approve our prospective schedule. Then we trekked across campus to the field house, where we joined a series of lines for IDs, meal cards, bursar, etc., before the main event of course registration.
Time slots were determined by last name, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when I ran into my cousin while waiting for Def-Dew’s turn in advising. I hadn’t seen Phil in more than four years, so we had a quick catch-up before discussing majors and which classes to take when the guy next to Phil interrupted us with advice.
