This is the story of how I met (and bedded) my now husband Jack (story told with help of my friend Caroline, and Jack). My name is Emma.
There he was across the room. Tall. Slim. Fighter pilot slim. In a tuxedo. And wow did he look good. Dark hair. And did I mention tall? Tall. People were naturally gravitating toward him, and he seemed to have an infectious smile and laugh judging by the reactions of the people he was conversing with.
We were at a fundraiser and I found myself — consciously or not — moving about the ballroom we were in to better gaze at the handsome man that was Jack, making sure of course that he never caught me staring. And then in the shuffle of bodies moving criss-cross in the room, lost sight of him.
As I wandered from conversation to conversation I would impolitely look beyond the person I was talking to hoping to again zero in on Jack, but not luck. Gone.
The balance of the evening was fun, and I prepared to leave, exiting the ballroom and headed for the elevator.
I pushed the down button, a moment passed. The doors opened. I stepped in. The doors began closing when a hand poked in between the closing doors causing them to reopen. And in stepped my friend Caroline. And behind her, him. It was the handsome man I spied across the room. I lost my breath. Caroline said hello. We engaged in small talk. All the while I just stared at the 6 foot 3 dream
–to be continued
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3uxf61/salty_ginger_tacos