I remember it like it was yesterday. I was an up and coming professional karate practitioner, known the world over for my youthful glow and sharp roundhouse kick. Fresh off a victory against a man who had been known to kill his opponents during matches, I was sitting in a hospital waiting to have casts placed on my feet, legs and hands, all of which I broke in the very first round of the fight. Despite the pain I continued the match, fueled by nothing but an iron will and the promise I had made to the dying Native American shaman who had raised me from birth.

As I sat there, thinking about what a life full of fame and fortune was going to be like, a crew of paramedics rushed a young woman in through the doors. Apparently a plane full of missionaries had made an emergency landing just outside the city, she being the one to pilot the plane (despite not having a pilot’s license) after the crew had taken ill from a mysterious sickness. Because of her actions, everyone survived but she had been seriously wounded after heading back into the plane to rescue an orphan that happened to be a gifted pianist and chess player. The plane exploded just as she handed the child off to emergency personnel, sending shrapnel into her body and destroying her kidneys.

It was at this moment that the spirit of love enveloped my body with warmth and made me realize my soul mate was moments from death. Acting fast, I donated one of my kidney’s to her, knowing that it would end my budding career as a professional karate practitioner. When we came out of anesthesia after the surgery, we were holding hands. We’ve been together ever since.

The story above is the origin story of how my wife and I came together. It’s also utter bullshit. The reality is I got really drunk by myself at a bar one night and she happened to be my waitress. In fact, my intentions that night were not exactly what I’d call “wholesome”, though she was intelligent enough to send me home alone without the “prize” I was pursuing.

Anyway, when people ask us how we met, I used to cringe a bit as I described the lack of romance that coincided with our first meeting. I assumed everyone else on the planet had a far more incredible tale to tell. After speaking with other people in long term relationships, I realized that was not the case. It seems like everyone I know met in a less than exciting fashion and my insecurity was based entirely on the “Meet Cutes” I’d witnessed in romantic comedies. This also makes me think that my fear of the world being taken over by aliens might be a bit silly (emphasis on the might).

Being that I’d a fan of both story time and being proven wrong, I’d love to hear the story of how you and your SO met (the filthier the better as I have set the bar rather low). Write it up in the comments section and there may or may not be a prize for the person who sends me the most entertaining (or embarrassing) tale.