I'm asked about this a lot so here's the story. I became His Lobster on Thursday February 1st, 1996. That was the original air date for the FRIENDS episode in which Phoebe explains her theory that Rachel is Ross' "Lobster". H and I had been married less than a month (after having only been dating for roughly 3 months, but that is an entirely different Blog story that I may or may not get to writing) when we sat down to watch our ritual Thursday night TV and we both felt as if Phoebe's theory applied to us. I know, but gimme a fuckin' break, we were but wee kidlets at the time...
Anyhoo, flash forward two weeks. Come on, I know you can do it. Math it out... Bingo. Valentine's Day. And it would be our first. Ever. Remember when I mentioned H and I had only been married a month or so after only dating for three? Yeah, well, little did I know it at the time, but H doesn't believe in Valentine's Day. He does make a good point though, calling it a travesty of a holiday, making women feel desperate and men feel obligated and ultimately, it just being Hallmark's way of lining its already overflowing wallet. But it might not have been a bad idea, per se, to stuff those acidic sentiments down deep and just suck it up this one time. You know, for his bride's sake. Or his marriage's. Or his dick's. So, what happened? Well, I'll tell you. Not a goddamned thing. Oh, I bought him a gift and planned a nice dinner, which he ate, but I got shit. Well, aside from H's aforementioned acidic sentiments about Cupid's holiday.
I'm not gonna get into details here, but suffice it to say that Newlywed Wars ensued. While in bed, H audibly wondered if he'd made the biggest mistake of his life and fought down his rising gorge at the thought, I cried myself to sleep thinking I'd married the most insensitive, egotistical asshole to have ever walked the planet (I hadn't heard of Obama yet) and neither of us got laid.
The next night, after having been coached in the "do's and dont's if you ever want a blow job from your wife again" area from a more seasoned, which is to say whipped, man, (H's buddy had been married eight whole months!) H apologized, gave me a gift of Sees Candy "Nuts & Chews" (no innuendo intended, they just happen to be called that and they're my favorite so stick a sock in it), silky pj's from Victoria's Secret, which I still have, and a card, which I still have as well. Yeah, the candy was consumed in record time (dark chocolate is an aphrodisiac by the way, and make-up sex is rad). The card was what did it though. And it was also where H put in writing for the first time that I was "His Lobster" and always would be regardless of what day it was on the calendar.
It's been almost 15 years since those two spontaneous and impetuous kids got married spur of the moment and then almost divorced just as quickly, but we're still together and I'm still His Lobster. The card is in a fireproof lock box along with our wedding certificate, proving we're not living in sin, and the birth certificates of our minions, which prove they're H's and not the milkman's.
And just as an example of how much I rock; I can still fit into those pj's. ;-)
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