A Special Day

December 14th is an important date for me. It marks a very special night, full of all kinds of beautiful nuttiness, and one that ended up changing my life forever.

The night of December 14th, 1999 was cold. Very cold. We had gotten snow in the couple of days prior to this date, and some nasty cold weather was hanging over the area like a shroud. The Stanford women's basketball team was in town to play the St. Joe's Hawks in what would provide the only opportunity for our closely-knit 7749 Crew to see our good friend Lauren play ball during her sophomore season. Most of the group was planning to attend. Jordan was on break from Northwestern, Jeannie, Quinnie and Shan were students at St. Joe's, and Eric, Mike D., Matt and I trolled in from our various suburban locales.

Just prior to halftime it was decided that the four guys in the group would run across campus to the Muddy Duck, a dive bar that we had passed on City Line Avenue. I wasn't really into the idea. This in and of itself was quite strange. Most of my twenties were spent seeking out watering holes, not looking for excuses to avoid them, work nights be damned. If I remember correctly, it was a Tuesday night. We went over to "the Duck" and found only two other patrons. This didn't bother us because we were simply going to have a beer and a shot for Eric's birthday and run back to the game. Two pitchers between the four of us, a shot apiece and two victories over bar manager Steve in foosball (that netted me $20) later, we made it back to the Fieldhouse with about 11 minutes left in the second half. Stanford lost, and there was much dismay. Ok, not that much dismay.

We got to visit with Lauren for awhile and then it was time to go get the cars, which were parked in three different locations around the sprawling campus. The plan was to go to Friday's for a bite but I had had a couple drinks and was warming up to the idea of making an evening of things. Matt and I returned to the Duck and picked up right were we left off. There were a few more people there at this point, and the shady bar manager seemed happy that I was back. I assume he wanted a chance to win back his money. After beating hima third time, I told him I had to go. I had some people waiting for me to go get something to eat. Steve suggested that I invite them in. I told him that most of them were not quite of age, but we came to an agreement and he let all of the Crew in. What a night. Money and drinks were flowing like a river. My buddies were having a great time and were in ridiculous shape. There was a group of four girls that I was buying round after round of drinks for, and all of us were having a blast. Then, it happened...

Another group entered the bar and came over to the group of four girls I was buying many drinks for. There were two girls in this new group and four guys. I worried for a moment that I might be in trouble if these guys were the boyfriends of the said four-girl group but it turns out I was safe. Plus, even though three of them were off-duty Philly cops, I have no doubt I would have acquitted myself well if the situation would have deteriorated.

On this night, I was wearing jeans, black Docs and a nice white button-down. None of these were the article of clothing that would be the ice-breaker with my future wife. On my head I wore a white CTW baseball cap, turned backwards. You see, Kim was an elementary school teacher in training, and a Children's Television Workshop hat on a 6'5 280-pound guy was pretty intriguing. (Editor's Note: I used to love the weird looks I would get at the Trappe Tavern while imbibing Lager bottles while wearing a Sesame Street cap)

At some point, Kim and I got to talking, I believe it was the hat that started the conversation. We hung out for awhile at the jukebox and we ended up in a liplock in the middle of the bar. How I allowed myself and my morals to be corrupted in such a public fashion I will never know. By the end of the night, the 7749 Crew was a shambles. Eric and Fineberg were missing. Mike Dolan was in his car, asleep with it running (not safe at 2am at 54th and City Line, Mike!). I found Eric slumped against the floor of the passenger side of his car, and Mattie was found propping up the Duck's bathroom wall at one point. This left me in a pickle. I had no way home. Everyone was planning to crash in the girls' rooms in St. Joe's housing. But, the strangest thing happened: Kim and her friends offered to drive me home to Audubon. This was no quick jaunt. Audubon was a good half-hour from St. Joe's. They got me home, I called and left Kim a message on her machine thanking her for getting me home and letting her know that I hoped we'd talk again sometime...and the rest is history.

By the way, the rest of the Crew made it safely to shelter that night, although the Lower Merion P.D. tried to interfere with that at one point... Who'd have thought you could meet your future spouse with all of this craziness going on?