The Times They Are A'Changing

After twenty years of marriage, things change, and not always the way you expect.

During our first year of marriage, Tim and I met some friends after work one night at what turned out to be a very crowded and noisy bar.

One of the other women and I started chatting and ended up off to one side where some guy approached us and offered to buy us drinks. We politely but firmly declined and turned our backs thinking the matter finished.

Fueled by God only knows how much alcohol (I'm guessing a lot ), he kept trying. "I'm with NASA," he announced, attempting to shoehorn himself in between us.

And he looked it, only not in the Tom Hanks, Kevin Bacon, Apollo 13 sort of way, but rather in the control room scene, black, horn-rimmed glasses, pocket protector Apollo 13 sort of way.

Where did he get this line anyway, page 135 of "How to Pick up Women Without Really Trying"? And who exactly did this work on? Was there really some woman somewhere that, upon hearing that line, turned to him and said, "Take me, I'm yours!"?

Our response this time was just as firm, but not nearly as polite. To the best of my recollection, it had something to do with launching himself into space after inserting a probe.

Tim, meanwhile, had seen the guy approach and lept to my defense without even hearing a word of the conversation. Despite my protestations that it was nothing, Tim firmly, but not politely at all, escorted the guy out of the bar.

Fast forward twenty years. A while back, we were out for the evening and decided to stop for a drink before going home.

As we sat at the bar, a guy who had clearly been over served detached himself from the end of the bar, stumbled up next to me, ordered another drink, and told me he wanted to buy me a drink.

Gesturing to Tim on my other side, I declined saying that my husband was buying my drinks.

Undaunted (okay, too drunk to hear me), he asked my name. Now this was not the easy opening the NASA guy had given me, but I could work with it all the same. Before I could deliver another not-so-subtle setdown though, the bartender intervened, telling the guy he was cut off.

Okay, let me get this straight. You are willing to serve a guy who staggers up to the bar and probably doesn't even know his own name a big ole glass of booze, but when he asks mine...clearly, he is so far gone it is time to call a cab!

And what did Tim do while all this was going on? Nothing. Not so much as a twitch out of him. Doubly insulted at this point, I couldn't help but comment on how things had changed since we were newlyweds. To which Tim responded, "What? I thought he was just asking to borrow a seat or something!"