I was sure that Mr. Right was never to be found, that I’d be an old spinster and hoarder, alone forever. Fortunately, that was not in the cards for me. How I got to Mr. Right is a long, complicated story. So I’ll break it down into digestible parts for you”¦
I moved back home in 2009 after living in two states in two years. My return home was due to a mix of missing my family, a lack of job opportunities in the field I wanted, and a bit of uncertainty surrounding where exactly I wanted my life to go.
My resume was filled with a mix of customer service and communication experience. Knowing that bills wouldn’t just stop once I moved home, I applied to basically any job I was qualified for and ended up accepting a job in a call center for a wireless provider.
I unfortunately never received a call from Zack Morris. / Source: McGSquared
I walked into the job orientation and recognized someone from my high school. I couldn’t place her name, but I knew I had definitely seen her around the school. We got to chatting, and a friendship was immediately born. People in our training class even started calling us Frick (me) and Frack (her). Turns out Frack was recently engaged, which matched up perfectly with me being an aspiring wedding planner.
The World Series came a couple of months into the job. I kept noticing this guy who had a lot of Yankees items on his desk and wore NYY gear quite often. The sports-loving lady inside of me couldn’t help but flirt. And flirt. And flirt. So much that the guys around him starting heckling me each time I’d visit his desk (like every day). I’m pretty sure some of them even started referring to me as his girlfriend. I later found out that one of those hecklers was actually Frack’s future brother-in-law. He definitely was a jerk and kind of pompous, always cutting me off whenever I’d try to talk about sports.
Time passes, nothing happens with Yankee boy, and Frack’s wedding to Gee is two days away. I help set up at the venue and Gee’s brother shows up and does basically nothing while he’s there. I even tried to stir up convo with him seeing as he was wearing a Buffalo Bulls shirt, my alma mater. Nope, nothing. Jerk.
The Gee and Frack wedding comes, totes amazeballs, and at the reception, a drink”¦or two”¦or 10 too many are consumed by yours truly. Rumor has it that this girl may have cried in the bathroom to the bride’s and groom’s mothers. (Not my proudest moment, but I say it didn’t happen if I don’t remember it.)
Gee, Frack, and me—after the “I do”s and before the “Oh no she didn’t!” / Personal photo
Well, anyway, I apologize about a billion times afterward to Frack, and she assures me everything is fine. What’s a girl to do about life when she’s down? Bake cupcakes, obv.
To be continued”¦