When Are You Taking Me For A Ride?

My favorite story to tell is how Johnny and I came to be. My brother joined the Marines in 2006 and became friends with some guy from Texas. Being that my brother never seems to be without an entourage, this Texan home for the following Thanksgiving. I was living in New Orleans, enjoying my new found freedom with one of a line pieces of crap. I sat next to him at dinner, watched TV with the boys, and went to bed. I think it may have crossed my mind to get him alone but I was sooo in love with the jackass that couldn't even join me for family functions. Mom calls him Nimrod, by the way. Anyway I went back to NOLA, my life continued it's journey, and the Texan my brother introduced as Johnny Rogers never crossed my mind again. I probably washed away the memory with the amount of drinking I was doing. Ok, moving on... Two years later my brother gets married and at the reception I drank out of his flask and drunkenly told him if he was ever in NOLA drinks were on me. My brother goes to Afghanistan, comes home, and moves to Texas. With Johnny Rogers. And his wife, of course. Now we flash forward two more years. The year my Grandmother passed away. My sister in law who goes by the name The Wife or Wife for short, picked me up in NOLA and drove me back to Fort Worth so we could all travel to Michigan together. And there he is again. I walked in on him in the pisser. That was it until last year when I left NOLA for good after getting fed up with being used as a punching bag. I had two choices, live on my brother's couch or move in with my mom. I took the couch. Johnny Rogers had claimed the recliner the week before. I walked in the door right after midnight on September 11, 2012. Broken and angry and said to him "when are you going to take me for a ride?" Mostly meaning on his bike, mostly. As things started settling down into a routine he became the friend I sorely needed. We played pool together and drank. We sat on the porch together. We danced. I cried on his shoulder the night I finally let it all go. I met his family. We rented an apartment with his sister and got out of the brother's and Wife's hair. He asked my brother for my hand in November. We picked a date, started planning, and told our families. Well, the wedding didn't turn out exactly the way we planned and neither did anything else. I was six weeks pregnant the day we said our vows at the justice of the peace. It was a perfect wedding and wouldn't change a thing about it except my brother being there. Things never seem to go as planned but where would the fun be in that. We love each other and that's all that matters.

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