The story MB won't admit to.

Blogger peeps, meet MB.
My hero.

He's pretty hot, huh? I think so.

He often talks about how he gets a bad reputation on Girly Bitz. This is my effort to change that.
This is my handsome betrothed saving the life of a poor little pup.
He's a paramedic and sometimes saves human lives, but apparently only canine lives are worthy of press.
I can't argue with that logic. A lot of people are bastards. Have you ever met a dog you didn't like? If you have, maybe you and I shouldn't be friends.

Anywags, I love this picture.
It's not the best picture I have of MB, but it's one I have at hand and he said I could use. I'm trying to strike while the consent is hot. Any wasted time trying to take a different picture could result in him revoking that consent and then you would all lose out. And nobody wants that.

I know all of you are secretly falling in love with MB right now. It's okay. Who wouldn't fall in love with a hero like that? He saved a dog. That's the stuff super heroes are made of.

So, I was going to get on here and vent about how his job is threatening furloughs and lay offs and how it makes me want to run for the nearest cupcake buffet (mmmmm, coping cupcakes) but I am trying not to focus on our pending financial ruin/homelessness.

Let's talk about something else, shall we?


Did I ever tell you how MB and I met?
No?
Well, let's talk about that.

It was September 2004. I was at my goal weight at the time and was feeling really good about myself. I was trying to find a man because I was single and dating losers. I guess that's what happens when you agree to go out with your friend's match.com rejects. Yeah. They are rejects for a reason.
Anywasteoftime, I was out with my girls for happy hour at the local bar. We had all decided to tackle my dating situation head on. We had a plan. We decided to give me a goal. Every time we went out, my goal was to either give out or get at least one phone number.

Interesting, huh?
We thought so.
If nothing else, it would provide a lot of humiliating stories to share at the next happy hour.
I was all for it.

So, we find ourselves at the bar partaking of a few cocktails. I had noticed MB when we first came in, but he doesn't believe me when I tell him that. I did though. I thought he was cute and was keeping him in mind as a potential number recipient.

The girls and I are pretty toasted when MB and his buddies truly catch our attention. I don't remember how it first came about, but I think one of my girls knew his captain or something and so they were chatting.
You see, MB was a new hire in the fire department at that time. A proby, if you will. He was out with a couple other proby guys and their captain and some other firefighters. While we are talking to some of the guys at the bar, we notice MB off to the side, holding up a sign.

A guy holding up a sign in a bar? He must've had something pretty important to convey.
Nope.
The sign said "I love boobies."
(makes me giggle to this day)

He. was. wasted.

Poor MB didn't stand a chance. The girls and I will sacrifice anyone for our own amusement. Once we found out he was a proby, we were intrigued. Then, when we found out he was super wasted, we were all in.
We had that poor boy doing our bidding for no other reason than to prove we could. You see, a proby has to do what his superiors tell him to do. We abused that and made his captain make him do push ups.
Push ups.
The poor bastard was doing push ups on the floor of the bar because we told him to.

It was awesome.

He never does anything I tell him to do now. I don't know what happened.
MB swears that my one girl promised to flash him if he did it and that was his motivation. She did flash him but whatever. MB, like any respectable man, became entranced by her boobs after he caught that first glimpse (she only flashed her bra btw). It got to the point that the feminist in me was getting a little pissed. My response? I stared at his boobs (even though he didn't have moobs at the time nor does he now) and asked him how it felt. When that didn't make an impact, I grabbed his boob.
I sure was bold in my thinness.

MB was a really good sport. Mostly because of the intoxication. We really had a lot of fun at his expense and we should be ashamed of ourselves.

Should be.

Of course, we weren't.

I don't remember what else we did to MB that night. I just remember that I liked him enough to give him my phone number. Actually it was my business card with my number written on the back.

Classy I know.

He does not remember meeting me that night. We talked on the phone for a couple weeks after that night because someone told him I wasn't hideous and he should call me. He had no idea what I looked like. His only reference was my older brother, who is in the same firehouse.

On our first date, MB was adorable. He kept saying over and over how he was so happy I looked nothing like my brother. So cute.
It was a good date.
Obviously.

I love MB dearly and wouldn't change a thing.

Of course, if I had known he was the one, I probably would've filmed the push ups. He's still in denial. A little proof would be nice.

Update: MB just told me I screwed up the story of how we met. He says I got everything wrong. See? Proof would be nice.
He also says that I didn't do what he said and black out his face. As if I know how to do that? Puhlease. He's already insisting the picture be removed. Don't be surprised if this post mysteriously becomes pictureless. :( I'm going to fight for my rights, but MB is pretty persuasive.