Downtown Portland '05
Eric and I were pretty fancy when we were dating, and I loved it. One day we were up at the Gateway for some shopping and dinner with friends. I was all dressed up and I was wearing a great pair of high heeled sandals and I was carrying one of those studded purses that were "cool" at the time. We were walking down the sidewalk, and just as we got in front of the entrance of one of the parking garages (where a bunch of cars were lined up waiting) I slipped and fell. Eric was a couple of steps ahead of me and he turned around and yanked me right back up and dragged me the rest of the way across the sidewalk. I never even had a chance to recover. About that point, some guy in the line of cars leaned out his window and yelled, "Hey! Are you ok?" Our friends that were with us said they never even knew anything had happened except that they heard the clanking of my studded purse as it hit the pavement.
Salt Lake Melting Pot '05
To our friends this is known as the story, because I think its been told about 79 times, but I wanted to be sure to get it in writing. So, here it goes.
When Eric and I were engaged we were living in the same apartment complex, but in separate buildings. We were also looking for an apartment to move to together once we were married. We found a place and Eric sent me to fill out all of the paperwork, etc. While I was doing the paperwork I realized I didn't have hardly any of the information I needed from Eric to fill out the contract, and it was really something we probably should have been doing together. At that point, my frustration towards Eric began to build.
After the housing office debacle, I called Eric on my way home. I stopped at Wendy's and I picked up some dinner for Eric too. I got to our apartment complex and I called Eric and told him I was there with his food. He told me to bring it up to his apartment (on the third floor). I should point out here that I was wearing a brand new pair of high heels, and the only pants I had to match them were the most uncomfortable pair of pants ever. So, I schlepped it up the stairs wearing new shoes, uncomfortable pants, and carrying two biggie sodas and a bag full of fast food. I think it was about 100 degrees outside too.
Eric met me at the door of his apartment and took his food out of my hands and said, "Thanks, I gotta get to work." Read: you just came all the way up here to see me, bring me food, and I am leaving right away. At this point I was really frustrated with Eric and I turned right back around in a huff and started furiously down the stairs. Just as I was about make my point that I was really ticked, the heel of my shoe caught in the cuff of my uncomfortable pants and I went tumbling down the stairs. A very bad word came flying out of my mouth at top volume and I crashed to a halt on the concrete landing.
Miraculously, I didn't spill a drop of the biggie soda. My brand new, $150 (I said we were fancy) shoes did not fair so well. The heel broke completely off of the right shoe. I don't think I said a word to Eric, I just went home, probably madder than I have ever been. Later, Eric promised to get my shoe fixed. He drove around with it in the back of his car for a year, but now it sits in our closet, still in two pieces.
Just outside Eugene '05
And those are my fall stories.