Big eyebrows. Hairy. Pushover. Non-confrontational. Degenerate
gambler. All words that are often used
to describe me. Romantic is certainly not one of them. My idea of romance usually involves my girlfriend
fiancée and I sitting on the couch, farting, laughing at said farts and watching
whatever AMC program it is we are watching that evening. Alas, Casanova, I am not.
But as everyone's favourite heroin addict Bob Dylan once
said, "Times They Are A Changin'".
Yes, if I wanted to get the girl of my dreams to marry me it was going
to take more than a Breaking Bad
marathon and some chronic gas expulsion from my ass. I was going to need a game plan. So game plan I did...
Before I delve straight into the business of getting
hitched, allow me to provide some background information for those of you that
aren't in the know:
What seems like just yesterday (but was in fact three years
ago), I decided to move to the Canadian equivalent of Space's Final Frontier,
Inuvik in the Northwest Territories. At
the time, I was just looking for something different, an escape if you will
from the grind that is life in the Greater Toronto Area. Now, let me also quickly say that I love
where I grew up and have established lifelong friendships there, but for me, I
needed a change, and a rather dramatic one.
Recognizing that I needed something different than my Monday
to Friday job, I started looking online for jobs and quickly had narrowed down
my options to either moving to a tropical island and working in a resort
environment or moving to the Arctic. I
shit you not, these were the two options I gave myself!
For some strange reason (the Universe works in mysterious
ways) I found myself drawn to and curious about the Arctic. I had never travelled further north than
Edmonton in my life, but I just couldn't shake the thought that this was where
I should move to. At the time I was
fresh out of a three year relationship and quite honestly wanted nothing to do
with a woman or any females for that matter.
I was more than content to date my hand for the foreseeable future. Moving to the Arctic seemed as safe a bet as
any to not meet the future Mrs. Moreau.
 |
| Sometimes it just takes a trip to the end of the world to find what you are looking for... |
Fast forward a few weeks and the next thing I knew I was on
a 20-seat turbo-prop plane on the runway in Dawson City, Yukon in early January
wondering what the fuck I had gotten myself into. Not only was it dark outside (at lunch time!),
but the temperature was hovering around -40°C and her I was sitting on a plane
with a family of five who were all wearing clothes made out of what appeared to
be real fur and heading to some God-forsaken place called Old Crow. The only
other passenger was a broad who was going to work for a dog sled team and could
have easily passed for Mickey Rourke's stunt double. Yup, just the seven of us and a flight
attendant who was wearing a parka and huge Sorel boots. I couldn't make this shit up
if I tried.
But alas, this is not my life story, so I shall try and get
back on track.
When I was hired in early January 2011, I was brought in
because there was to be a lot of people taking consecutive vacations at my new
place of employment, the first of them being my now fiancée, Colleen who was to
be leaving the following week. I won't
lie and tell you I remember the first time we ever met. In fact, the first feelings I ever had for
her were feelings of sympathy!
My first week in Inuvik, we had a staff meeting to go over
the usual bullshit that people cover at such events. At some point during this assembly, Colleen
was centred out in
front of everyone for a slight indiscretion at work and all I can remember is
being terrified for her. I thought this
poor, young girl is being humiliated in front of everyone and to top it all off
she is going to be fired right before she is scheduled to go on vacation. She was in near tears and it looked like her
world was coming to an end. I just
wanted to run over and give her a hug (a non-sexual hug I would like to point
out!).
Thankfully, Colleen was able to go on vacation and return to her job, where she
would get to work alongside me, the non-romantic gas passer. Over the next few months we worked together
and got along quite well, but I never tried to make a move on her or really
even flirt with her much because at the time she was living with another guy
and home-wrecking isn't really my thing.
Yes, she was beautiful, funny, kind, caring, and full of life, but I
generally try to avoid to hitting on women who are involved with other
penis-wielding creatures. Lesbians are
fair game.
 |
| She was "charmed" by snake, obviously. |
As luck would have it though, things took a turn for the
better in June of 2011, when we both found ourselves unattached and the next
thing I knew I was cast in a spell by my now future wife.
~Brentski~
Next time: Taking our relationship to the next level. Without using warp zones or cheat codes.
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