So, we will be married for a whole decade this December. I know right? That’s kinda sorta flown by. A whole decade of Jacob and Jegi lovin is what I call it (that is frowned upon, but I do it nonetheless.)
When we started this journey together, we were a whopping 20 years-old and thought we had it all figured out. We had zero money, I remember giving our budget to a financial advisor at our church and she said, “Is this it?” We started out in a wee, one bedroom apartment and were completely in love and happy.
All these years later we have upgraded from the one bedroom to a house, gained a spoiled dog and have a sweet little girl with another kiddo in the way in August. Plus, we still have each other and are completely in love. We may not have it all figured out, but life is good.
People ask what our favorite memory is and we really can’t put a finger on one single one cause so many have been amazing. If you don’t know me, I’m somewhat of a “laid back” kind of guy. Ok, I’m a little wild sometimes. (Nothing illegal, I promise.) Let’s just say there is rarely dull moments at our house or anywhere else we go, now that I think of it. But I digress.
One memory that always comes up is our first wedding anniversary. We had gotten married in The Lubbock Club. It was high atop the Wells Fargo building in downtown Lubbock and was a rather exclusive club. One had to have a membership to even eat there, but for the right price, you can have an event there. I told Jeg that we would make a point to come back and eat dinner there each year.
Fast forward to the following year. December came upon us quick and Jeg was looking forward to our dinner. I was sitting back confident thinking that I could get in no prob.
Two weeks out from the big day, I call the Lubbock Club to set the date. The call was like:
Hostess: Lubbock Club, how can I help you?
Me: Yes ma’am, I’d like to make a reservation.
H: What name will that be under?
H: Oh yes Mr. Tucker, what day and time would you like?
I set my date and time, no problem! All I thought was, “Dang, thins isn’t a big deal at all. I got this.” While talking to my middle brother, John, I realized that could have been a taller order than I expected. It went like this:
John: Hey man, big anniversary coming up!
Me: Oh yeah!
John: What are you going to do?
Me: We’re gonna go to the Lubbock Club! It’s gonna be pretty cool!
John: Oh yeah? You got a reservation?
Me: Yeah, why the surprise?
John: I mean, I’m not doubting you, but you need a membership to get in that place.
Me: Oh yeah, I’m in dude!
John: Alright little bro! Let me know how it turns out!
I hung up thinking. “That dude doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I got in no problems.” And I went upon my way.
As I talked with more friends and family members, they all had the same astonished reply when I told them what we were doing for the anniversary. I’m just thinking what’s the deal? I had zero problems arranging it and I’m not gonna question that.
The day arrives. We exchanged our gifts and got ready to head out for the date. One of the last “critiques” of our night came from a close friend. He had told us to “dress to the nines” when we went up there. Neither of us really had any formal clothes. But I had a new leather jacket and slacks and Jeg was gonna look stunning regardless. So we took our chances.
The elevator ride felt like it took forever, but we finally made it to our floor. As soon as we stepped out, the hostess greeted us by name, “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, right this way.” Jeg looked at me all impressed and, honestly, I was impressed with myself.
We got to our seat, which was pretty nice. The table overlooked the downtown area, right at all of the Christmas lights. It was almost the perfect recreation of our great night the year prior.
There were three couples in the ENTIRE club and we didn’t exactly fit with them. When we were sat down, I noticed that they all had extra pairs of shoes by their seats, full suits and evening gowns. They did cast a little bit of a glare in our direction, but oh well, we are gonna enjoy our night.
We placed our orders, shortly after the waitress brought out our salad and soup. I got this lobster bisque…which was a stretch for me. It was kinda weird. Actually, it was crunchy in places, which is not characteristic of a bisque. Jeg was loving her salad and just grinning away. The waitress came back out to serve the table next to us. She stumbled and dropped the roll she had in her hand. The elder man of the table scoffed as the waitress vehemently apologized. She then came over to our table and dropped one onto our table. Apologies spewed from her mouth. I told her just to calm down and it’ll be okay. She said thank you and went about her way. I couldn’t help but notice how nervous each of our servers were. Again, this was something new to this guy. Anyways, the night goes on.
The band began playing (yes, there was a band.) These guys were a piece of work. They were all dressed in the same cheapo, gold tuxedo vests. The lead singer was singing like he was Dean Martin at The Flamingo. “Bésame, bésame mucho,” he crooned as he ran his hand through his greased hair.
Our food came, we ate and enjoyed our time together. The manager wandered between our tables, asking about our service and how everything was. Our neighbors, the snooty turds, complained about the dropped rolls and said that it should not go unpunished. We looked at one another and just couldn’t believe that it was happening. Whatever, just keep rolling.
Our check came, that’s where this evening takes an interesting turn. The waiter, our waitress was mysteriously gone now, told us, “Here is your check Mr. Tucker. You can just sign it to your tab.”
My tab? What tab? Looking closer at the ticket, Jacob Tucker wasn’t on the ticket. Another Tucker was on the ticket. That was how I had gotten my reservation. I was an imposter! And we were eating on someone else’s tab! How was I going to explain this to my wife? Jeg said immediately, “What tab? How did you get this reservation?” I told her what happened and she then asked how I was going to fix it.
Now a rational thinker would just go to the waiter, explain the mixup and just get the ticket taken care of. But when I am flustered, I’m more of an impulsive thinker. I called the waiter over and asked if I could just pay cash for our meal because I just didn’t want to worry about it later in the month. He gave me a weird look and called the manager over. We shifted uncomfortably in our seats. Our position had gone from out-of-place to just plain awkward. The manager asked me to explain what was going on. I reiterated what I told the waiter and he understood. He took my money and had to go down a floor to get some change. These people probably thought that I was having an affair and was trying to cover it up by paying cash and leaving no paper trail.
As soon as the manager got back with our change, we cut out of that place, laughing all the way to Walmart. At least we could cap off the night hanging out with our kind of people.