Nine years...
Well, it has been nine exciting years since Pete and I went on our first date. Little did we know the adventure that lay before us. So, here is the story of our first date...
It was a cold and rainy night...no, not really. It was actually a beautiful fall day and I had spent the afternoon shopping at the mall of america and bought a brand new pair of Steve Madden butterfly tennis shoes. I was excited. It also happened to be my favorite weekend of the year. 
Not to hot, not to cold, the rain usually hasn't started yet and the colors are peak. On this particular Saturday I got a call from a Mr. Peter Johnson. After chatting on the phone for quite some time about church, Bible study and such, Pete got up the nerve to ask me to meet him for ice cream. (For those of you who know him, this is not a shocker, the ice cream that is.) He offered to meet me there and I said "You are driving right by my house, why don't you pick me up?" "OK!" says Pete. :o) So we had ice cream at Bridgeman's (now a Caribou) and chatted some more. After which we thought it was such a beautiful night, we could take a walk around Lake Calhoun. Perfect! So we started around the lake which is about a three mile walk and about a 1/4 of the way around I started to wish we done. Remember those brand new butterfly shoes? Well, they weren't exactly broken in. I didn't have the guts to tell Pete to turn around so I decided to take them off and walk in my stocking feet. Worked great until half way around the lake Pete noticed. Well, he thought it was silly to walk in stocking feet and get goose poop on my socks so he thought it best to put on my shoes. UGGG. Reluctantly I did so and limped a few feet until he was distracted by the lake and I secretly slipped them off. I held them in my hand away from him and we enjoyed the rest of our walk. Only when we got to the car did he see I was back in my stocking feet and thought it was again just silly. My last challenge of the night was to get from his car to the front door. By now my feet were blistered and bloody and I had my shoes on for the last 10 feet to the door. Now all I had to do was walk, easier said than done, but I did make it without Pete knowing the pain I was in. I threw away my socks after settling in, not because of goose poop but because of the bloody mess and washed my shoes out with hydrogen peroxide. I wore flip flops for the next month and finally confessed the real story of our first date to Pete after 4 or 5 months of dating. :o)
The very same shoes, I can't get rid of them yet.
Not to hot, not to cold, the rain usually hasn't started yet and the colors are peak. On this particular Saturday I got a call from a Mr. Peter Johnson. After chatting on the phone for quite some time about church, Bible study and such, Pete got up the nerve to ask me to meet him for ice cream. (For those of you who know him, this is not a shocker, the ice cream that is.) He offered to meet me there and I said "You are driving right by my house, why don't you pick me up?" "OK!" says Pete. :o) So we had ice cream at Bridgeman's (now a Caribou) and chatted some more. After which we thought it was such a beautiful night, we could take a walk around Lake Calhoun. Perfect! So we started around the lake which is about a three mile walk and about a 1/4 of the way around I started to wish we done. Remember those brand new butterfly shoes? Well, they weren't exactly broken in. I didn't have the guts to tell Pete to turn around so I decided to take them off and walk in my stocking feet. Worked great until half way around the lake Pete noticed. Well, he thought it was silly to walk in stocking feet and get goose poop on my socks so he thought it best to put on my shoes. UGGG. Reluctantly I did so and limped a few feet until he was distracted by the lake and I secretly slipped them off. I held them in my hand away from him and we enjoyed the rest of our walk. Only when we got to the car did he see I was back in my stocking feet and thought it was again just silly. My last challenge of the night was to get from his car to the front door. By now my feet were blistered and bloody and I had my shoes on for the last 10 feet to the door. Now all I had to do was walk, easier said than done, but I did make it without Pete knowing the pain I was in. I threw away my socks after settling in, not because of goose poop but because of the bloody mess and washed my shoes out with hydrogen peroxide. I wore flip flops for the next month and finally confessed the real story of our first date to Pete after 4 or 5 months of dating. :o)
The very same shoes, I can't get rid of them yet.
posted by Pete and Jess @ 4:35 PM
1 Comments:
At October 16, 2007 1:57 AM,
Anonymous said…
ooh, your poor feet! i must say that you're quite the trooper. me and hurting feet are not friends. :P
i didn't know we share first dates so close together! phil actually considered having our first date on 10/10 but for some reason decided he liked 10/12 better. and then we both got married within a month of the same year! go figure that one!
how old were you guys then when you first starting dating??
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