Mr. Jet was single as well, hot off a relationship that ended badly for him and left him with a sour taste for the opposite sex.
We were coincidentally seated at the same table, and while he eyed me with his dark beard and brown eyes thinking maybe girls weren't so bad for him, I wondered what we were having for dinner and where the bar was.
Needless to say, I doubt either of us left a big impression on each other, but future run-ins that summer led me to believe there was something interesting about the bearded man from that wedding.
We casually talked throughout the summer, then one night I got up my (liquid) courage to ask a mutual friend his age. "He has grey hairs, it could mean he's like...30 or something," my 23-year old self declared.
"I'll find out," said the mutual friend.
"Okay, but don't tell him I'm interested...I just want to know if he's too old for me."
"Yah yah, don't worry."
::cut to mutual friend approaching Mr. Jet::
"How old are you?"
"Oh, my friend likes you. She wanted to make sure you weren't too old for her."
"Really? Who? The girl with the tattoo of Massachusetts on her arm?"
"Yeah, why? Do you like her too?"
The rest, as they say, was history.
We started dating that Fall and are set to be married this Fall, almost exactly 6 years to the day he asked me to be his girlfriend. That bearded wedding guest was the love of my life, I just didn't know it yet,