Jilted at the Altar!

I was a little fuzzy-headed yesterday morning; the night before was a long one. I hadn’t planned it that way, of course, but sometimes those things happen. I was hanging out at my brother’s place, and his buddy was over to discuss buying a restaurant. Nights can get long when Jardo is around, but he and his girlfriend left at a reasonable hour. All might have ended early if it weren’t for Šarka (rhymes with shark-ah) being there also. She lives out of town, and MaK likes to keep her around as long as possible when the opportunity presents itself.

Šarka is also a massage therapist. That is an admirable quality in any human being, but when I said (quite sincerely) that I would forgive almost any sin in my next girlfriend if she gave good massages, MaK’s matchmaking instincts kicked into full. She was by no means obnoxious about it, mainly just doing her best to keep both of us there as long as possible, something that fits with her natural hosting instincts anyway. One of her techniques is to make sure a guest never has an empty glass. (Although when she almost-tearfully told Šarka that she was welcome in the family, that might have tipped her hand a bit.)

Šarka stayed very late, and I sure as heck wasn’t going anywhere when there are massages from attractive women happening. Which they were. I must say that although my head was fuzzy on Sunday, my back and shoulder felt better than they have in a while.

Somewhere during the massages I proposed marriage. She said OK. That was supposed to happen yesterday, but we never specified a time or place, and as the day wore to a close I didn’t hear from her. I didn’t press the matter — I had managed to get her consent for marriage, but not her phone number. Obviously I could have got that from MaK but I wasn’t at my best anyway. It is rare that I actually sparkle, but yesterday I was solidly entrenched at the far end of the personality spectrum. And maybe — just maybe — she didn’t take the proposal seriously. That I was laughing when I proposed probably didn’t help. Now she’s back in Moravia, and I won’t see her for at least a month because of my own travels. Ah, fickle gods of strong hands and soft hearts! Why do you torment me so?

Although we did make tentative plans for an Alaska road trip…

4 thoughts on “Jilted at the Altar!

  1. On the one hand, I’ve never met Šarka’s family. In fact, I don’t even know her last name. When it comes right down to it, I know exactly nothing about her. There could be trouble there. On the other hand, Šarka likes beer (but only beer she likes), and she really does give good massages. I’m pretty sure Squirrely Joe would be smackin’ me upside the noggin just for having this internal debate.

  2. Don’t worry, well try to get it all ironed out when the both of you are back in the CZ at the same time! Plus, we would have worked out the details on Sunday, but you said you wanted to sleep!

  3. Another Czech daughter-in-law? Well, we’re pretty satisfied with the one we have. More than satisfied. Will I be forced to learn the language in my old age?

  4. Did anybody catch who visitor 65K3 was?

    I’m suffering Sitemeter withdrawal … lucky you to be on server sm4, and lucky Pat to be on server sm20. Alas, server sm1 is dead, and I’m left looking at everybody else’s Sitemeter results to find humorous connections to think about.

    Oh, well, I’m told the situation is only temporary.

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