D and I met at a bar called the "Wrangler" (Mmmm, klassy!) and it has gone from a country bar to a Mongolian barbeque and then they tore it down and put in a bank.
I feel a Joni Mitchell song coming on. . .
Hmm. A bar, a barbecue and a bank. At least they haven't ranged all over the alphabet.
Does kind of give an interesting meaning to making a deposit, though.
What a sweet story! Except the part about the hurricane tearing down your spot. Thanks for sharing. I always love hearing how people met. I don't know why.
I met my hubby on a blind date of all things. Sometimes, they actually do work.
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