To help you get to know our family a little better, every Thursday we will share a story from our past with you. Today, I’ll tell you how Sam and I first met.
Will’s Side of the Story
I attended Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah for my undergrad degree. After my freshmen year , I decided to take a couple years off from college to do volunteer work in the Seattle area. On my first day back to college, my roommates invited me to attend a birthday party for one of the girls in my apartment complex.
At the party, I noticed Sam (who I’d never met) at the kitchen counter chopping up steaks and wrapping them in foil to put in the freezer. Despite all the party activities filling her apartment, she wasn’t participating in the festivities and she didn’t appear to be having that great of a time. Hoping to help brighten her day, I walked over and started a conversation with her.
She’s quite skilled with a kitchen knife, so I decided to start talking with her about kitchen knives (looking back, it amazes me that I ever got married). I commented about her skill and asked her if she’d ever contemplated using her kitchen knives as throwing knives (again, how did I ever get married). I don’t remember where the conversation went from there, but I do remember Sam being extremely sassy and short with me.
We did end up chatting in a larger group later that night, but nothing that great came of it. At the end of the night, if you would have told me that Sam and I would get married less than a year later, I wouldn’t have believed you.
Sam’s Side of the Story
Sam was a manager at a local deli when I moved back to Provo. The day of her roommate’s birthday party, her deli was responsible for feeding all the incoming students at freshmen orientation. It takes a long time to make lunch for 5000 people, so Sam started working the day before. She pulled an all-nighter to get the order ready and delivered. She came home from work completely exhausted, planning on sleeping for a long time.
What she hadn’t remembered was that she had offered to drive one of her roommates to the grocery store to buy things for the party that night. Sam is always true to her word (even if she has to turn herself into a pretzel), so after working her 18 hour shift she found herself walking the aisles at the supermarket. Steaks were on sale that day and Sam never passes up a good deal. Despite her exhaustion, she bought a lot of meat. Her plan was to cut it up and freeze it for later.
By the time she got home from the grocery store, Sam hadn’t slept in a day and half. She smelled like pastrami, she had pounds and pounds of meat to attend to, and her apartment was filled with loud, rowdy college students. Suffice it to say, she wasn’t in the best of moods as she pulled out her knives to carve the meat.
To fully understand the rest of our story, you need a brief note about Sam’s knives: Previously, Sam had taken a series of culinary arts classes and had bought a very expensive set of knives to use for these classes. These knives are fantastically sharp and perfectly balanced. They make all other knives feel self-conscious. These are amazing knives. Sam loves these knives like she loves her children.
Back to our story. Sam had just pulled out her knives and began carving away when a loud, brash guy started asking her if she’s ever considered throwing her knives, her precious knives, her babies, into a wall. Most days, she could handle such an annoyance. But not this day. This day of 5000 sandwiches and exhaustion and grocery store trips and an apartment full of loud crowds and now her knives were under attack . . . and she broke. Sam, who is usually the sweetest, kindest person you could imagine, decided to give me a piece of her mind. As I said, I don’t remember what she said, but I do remember her being a bit nasty with me.
After I left that evening, one of her roommates said to her, “That Will is kind of cute. I think I might try to date him.” Sam’s response: “Go for it. He’s all yours.”
Tune in next week to find how this less than stellar first meeting blossomed into my favorite love story.