Soon after we started dating, my future husband and I were walking around the local mall when we spotted a three-sided dagger in the display window of the tobacco/knife/dreamcatcher store (every mall used to have one – it was written in city codes). He said something like, “Weird knife, huh?” So of course I said, “Yeah. It’s a three-sided dagger. It makes a wound that doesn’t close.”
He laughed a little and led me into the store, where he told the salesman, “My girlfriend says that a three-sided dagger makes a wound that won’t close. Is that really what it’s for?”
The salesman dropped to his knees and asked for my hand in marriage. Or at least he should have.
Seriously, he looked at me a little cockeyed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s what they do,” he said.
The boyfriend paled only slightly, and we continued our mall rounds.
It’s still an episode that both of us remember in detail. He found out that I knew more about knives than perhaps a proper young lady should, and I learned that maybe you don’t blurt out all the weird things you know.
Maybe.
(Note: I have since learned that a three-sided dagger doesn’t necessarily make a wound that doesn’t close, but instead makes a wound that is more difficult to close than one made by a single- or double-sided blade. Also, please note that my knowledge of knives comes from a few years of D&D play and more than a few sci-fi/fantasy books. I have never stabbed anyone. Unless the dice told me to.)
So, I guess the question *might* be … did your future husband know you were … uh, you know … weird? Did you have to break the Geekness to him slowly? If so, how? I mean, can you talk about the ecosystem of Endor, or your rogue’s flanking bonus on the first date? 😉
He had way more explaining to do on the first date, considering he had a Volkswagen transmission in his kitchen. It’s been interesting.
You played an elf.
Every time.
She is an elf.
new. post.
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