I wrote this story a few months ago, and now Dave has sent me the picture to prove its truth.
As Dave and Cherie’s wedding approaches and I prepare to travel in several weeks to Atlanta, I have yet another story to share about my soon to be wed friend.
Here are the other two stories I’ve shared so far:
How Dave fed me for 3 weeks
Not just a free newspaper, a free newspaper machine!
And now for a third installment.
Dave and I went to some great concerts together. The night we were driving to one concert, I rear-ended the car in front of me. I was freaking out because I didn’t have the money to pay for tickets and insurance bills and all that junk. So all that was flowing through my head when all of a sudden the car I hit takes off with screeching wheels. I followed the car for a short time fearing I would eventually get in trouble if I didn’t, but they got away. Coincidentally this was my first OJ Simpson impersonation (except backwards), and I pray it was my last.
Then Dave got the bright idea (I actually don’t remember but I would never take credit for this) to drive to Macon to see Jaci Velasquez. We got there early and had a great view from the first row. This was only important because Dave and I were single, and so was Jaci, so the theory in our minds went something like this: Jaci would see one of us singing her songs and having a great time, then she’d invite us to go out to Pizza Hut after the show, then ask us to travel across the country with her as her bodyguards. Eventually one of us would have a long, meaningful conversation with her, resulting in a long courtship period where we prayed for God’s will in each others lives. Then we’d get married. The loser would have to wait out for Rebecca St. James – hardly a sacrifice.
At the intermission when we were already all tired out from the mosh pit and all that, dave says to me, “Hey Marty, let’s go backstage.” Ever being the lame and conservative one, I declined with humor, “No thanks Dave, I’m all done with getting kicked out of places with you. Plus I bet breaking into Jaci’s dressing room would be a felony, and I’m all set with those too.” He said, “Your loss” and walked away. I sat there thinking he was crazy and it didn’t matter anyway, because she was back there asking her current bodyguards to go find their replacement – “ya know, that tall 6′3″ black haired drink of water on the front row.” I already felt bad for the guys. (and Dave)
No one ever came and asked me to come hang out backstage during the intermission that evening, but Dave eventually came back – after hanging out in the back dressing room with Jaci and her mom for like 20 minutes! Dave got some sweet pictures with Jaci that night, and I vowed never to miss out on another opportunity like that again.
Of course that was bad news too, but that’s for a whole different post.
