Meesh: Compared To Cattle

Imagine that a tall, handsome, Turkish male model is talking to you. Imagine that this gorgeous man is buying you one tequila shot after another. Now imagine that you've just turned 21 and it's one of your first few nights out on the town.

Gobble was absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man that has ever spoken to me in real life (as opposed to the many gorgeous men who frequently speak to me in my dreams.) Gobble worked at his brothers restaurant, was just a few years older than me, and his Turkish accent and green eyes mesmerized my soul. Gobble could have asked me to do just about anything and I would have gladly obliged.

From what I can remember of the night, Gobble kept me busy with funny stories and shot glasses filled with Patron. One after another, I took them back, as though I'd win a medal in the Drinking Olympics. I was going for gold. He should have just put a straw in a Patron bottle. It would have been more efficient.

My cousin's girlfriend was my wing-man for the night. We all drank. We were all merry. The last thing I remember is Gobble taking us all for a drive in his convertible Mercedes after we left the bar.

The rest is a blur. I woke up the next morning in a hotel room with my cousin's girlfriend laying next to me. In the bed next to us, there were two men. I woke up my cousin's girlfriend to ask her where we were. Just as she starts to answer my questions, I see a veil on the dresser across from the bed.

"Who got married?" I shrieked with excitement! "You did, silly!" she replies. Excuse me, but the last time I was awake, I was single. And flirting with a hot Turkish man. Now, I'm married? This is far too much to comprehend in my drunken haze.

Seeing as how I'm not the quietest person, I made enough noise to wake the hot Turkish brothers. Once Gobble explains to me that we did get married, I begin to freak out. I don't even know this man. He may have the most beautiful green eyes I've seen, a jaw so perfectly chiseled that God must have used his best tools, and a smile so bright that it lit up my soul - but I could not have possibly married him. I'm not a reckless person. There was no way I'd allow this to happen.

When it finally settles in that I was, in fact, a reckless and married idiot, I called my father. "Dad, I accidentally got married in Reno. What should I do?" I was terrified to hear his response. "If he got you to Reno, he needs to get you home." That's all he said. He must be mad. At this point, I'd much rather stay in Reno than go home to face my disappointed father.

The almost 4 hour drive home seems like 4 days. When he dropped me off, Gobble tried to explain the situation to my father.

Gobble needed a green card. He was going to be deported if I got an annulment. My father didn't seem to care. Before I knew it, it was Monday morning and I was in San Francisco, in front of a judge, waiting for my turn to annul my spontaneous, drunken, totally awesome wedding to the hottest man I'd ever met.

When it was our turn, my father turned to the judge and asked if he could say something. "Your honor, I'd just like to say that if I had bought a cow and raised it, it would have been smarter than her."

When your father declares to the world, in a thick Persian accent, that livestock is more intelligent than you, you pretty much know you're a useless human being. "Are you sure you cant put her in jail to teach her a lesson?" I was mortified.

Not only did my father want to imprison me, but I would never marry such a beautiful man again.