How I won my husband in a bet

Six years ago today I met Dave for the first time in the Watershed Bar, Bristol, so it seems appropriate to relate the tale of how I won my husband in a bet not so very long ago.

Summer 2002 was not an easy time for me. I was knee-deep in my Masters dissertation on citation analysis (not the easiest area of Information Science) and working full-time for Talis, so my social life was thin, to say the least. On one of the few occasions that I did go out, to a party in Moseley, I came to the tragic realisation that everyone had somehow become younger than me, and that in relationship terms, I was almost out of options.

Into this greyish existence stepped an entertaining new friend, Manish. He'd just started going out with my friend Samira, and was about to embark on a 6 week round-the-world trip with his two teacher colleagues, Fraser and Dave (yes, the hero of this rom-com has made an early appearance). The snag was that he was so smitten with Samira that he was destined to spend a good deal of the trip missing her desperately. What better way to relieve the emotional longing, then, than to go tinkering around with the personal lives of singletons such as myself and Dave. It proved pretty easy for Manish to generate some degree of mutual interest, given that I had no life to speak of and Dave (by then nicknamed Short Fuse Dave by Samira) was surrounded by Bangkok prostitutes and lady-boys. We all tentatively agreed that in Autumn, when I'd finished my dissertation, I'd go over to Bristol and we'd meet.

In September, then, the date for this auspicious meeting was set at Saturday October 12th, and over in Birmingham, considerable interest was generated. At the Patrick Kavanagh pub in Moseley one Friday night, I announced to my friends that I was sure I could get to snog Short Fuse Dave on the same night I met him for the first time. The bets rolled in until there was £35 on the table from various friends.

On Saturday October 12th 2002, 3 days after submitting my groundbreaking dissertation (which no-one has ever read apart from my supervisor and the external examiners) I drove down to Bristol with my friend Ashley, and that evening, Ashley, Samira, Manish and I went down to the Watershed bar to meet the famous Short Fuse Dave. Dave is very easy to spot, as anyone who knows this 6'8" man will testify, so I had the benefit of prior scrutiny. What I saw was the man that I'd wanted all my dates over the past 5 years to be.

Straight away I hit a barrier - acute shyness. As I spoke with Dave and Fraser for the first time, I was so nervous that the cocktail stirrer I was twiddling with flew right out of my hands and into the hood of a man a few feet away. Dave and Fraser thought this was hilarious, but I was mortified. Tactics were formulated on the fly, consisting of avoiding Dave like the plague until I'd drunk at least 4 vodkas and could be relied on to operate in the manner of a grown-up woman.

Four vodkas later we were in bar number 2, and I wish I could remember its name, because that was where I finally mustered the courage to approach Dave and start a conversation. Our first conversation consisted of me (ever the sophisticated seductress) telling Dave how much I was looking forward to having cosmetic surgery on my nose, and Dave replying that he wished he could have part of his legs chopped off so he would be 6'4". But we just kept on talking and talking, so everyone left us alone, and suddenly we were in a gay club snogging. And at 2am, we all caught a taxi to Manish's house so I could pick up my bag and take it to Dave's.

By 5am, I knew I was onto a good thing. And then I remembered about the bet, and realised, not without some degree of trepidation, that unless I handled the issue delicately, Dave could easily misinterpret my reasons for being with him and the whole deal would be off. I turned to Dave and said "Dave I've got something to tell you", and mentally prepared my defence. But Dave just looked at me and said "Is this something to do with a bet?" I exclaimed "What? How did you know?" and Dave explained that after we'd snogged for the first time in the club, Dave had bumped into Manish who said "Damn, looks like I've lost £10."

The next day we got up at around 3pm, met everyone in the Watershed for a very late lunch, and then I drove Ashley and myself back to Birmingham. Next day I had 2 text messages from Dave (he later said he knew how much I liked him when I gave him THREE phone numbers, my full postal address and email). After a few days, I wondered how I'd feel if I got home from work one night and there wasn't an email from Dave waiting for me. But that never happened until Dave got a job in the Midlands and moved in with me 6 months later. 6 months after that we were engaged.

And that is how I won my husband in a bet.

As for my winnings, Dave and I drank the £35 at a party a few weeks after meeting.