• A.D.S. Ferreira

The Sundae Topping that changed my life

I often find that people believe first impressions are everything. I guess if that were true, I wouldn't have married my husband. I know what you're thinking, "okay Ashley calmed down, your first impression of him couldn't have been THAT bad then. It was. When your first words even before "hello" are "you're a fucking asshole," you KNOW there is no turning back; or is there?

Okay, okay I know this (the blog) needs explaining especially with the random title; I’ll get there, I promise. It’s not every day you hear (or in this case read) that someone married the man she called an asshole, huh. Can I just say that it was because I thought first impressions were everything, and that I disliked this poor soul enough to avoid him like a plaque for two months?

What changed my "hate" to “love”? Well, that is the icing on the cake of this story (well the topping on the sundae): sprinkles. Well, what's a story without a little background information; since this is my "fairy tale," I'm going to start it the right way. ;)

Once upon a time, there was I was a move out of home college girl who wanted to work on her downtime for more cash and decided to apply to Pizza Hut. The first two weeks of training was great, and I really had a knack for waitressing. One day 15 minutes into my shift, I noticed a new kitchen staff guy being (in my eyes) disrespectful to the manager on duty. I didn’t hesitate, ha, I had no shame; this girl went straight to him in front of the manager and called him a fucking asshole. For a couple months I avoided him, checked if we worked and shifts together and looked forward to the days we didn’t. Damn, I remember begging my mom to help me a bit more financially while I looked for another job. Now that I look back I mayyyyy have been super dramatic but don’t blame me, I was taking musical theatre in college.

One night I was serving a table of a family that had two beautiful daughters, the children had “build your own sundae” with their meals, so as per usual I brought them their scoops of ice-cream with a bottle of chocolate sauce and sprinkles shaker. Before I knew it, the younger daughter (I think) had accidentally opened the sprinkles shaker, and it was everywhere. It rained sprinkles for what seemed like a good 5 minutes, and the only thought that went through my mind was "ah fuck I have to close tonight" what I didn't know was that the guy I hated (at the time) was closing with me. A couple of hours passed, and it was time to close shop. The manager on duty thought it would be amusing to ask him to help me move tables as I vacuum knowing that I wasn't "fond" of them. You can just imagine the colourful wording running through my mind as he struts my way to aid me. While I am vacuuming underneath one of the tables, he speaks to me for the first time tonight. "Watch your hynie,” he spoke up suddenly. The look of bewilderment covered my face like a blanket was thrown over me. I don’t know about you but being a city who happened to just move to the country I have never heard the word hynie before then.


"Your hynie, watch your hynie."

I didn't move, I was frozen like a deer in headlights confused on what language this man was talking to me, and he knew it.

“I meant can you kindly move over so I can move that table this way for you to vacuum.”

“So why didn’t you just say so?”

“I did.”

“Pfft, okay.”

It took everything in me not to burst out laughing, other “normal” or should I say city 19-year-olds would have just simply said “move” or “move or your ass.” I think it was my soon to be hubby's way to be nice.? Lord knows. All I know, is that before we realized it, we weren’t shutting up the remainder of our shift. While cleaning, we spoke about about hynie and other "country words."

I went home and thought nothing of it as I got dressed and got ready for bed. It wasn’t until I woke up panting in “heat” at 2:00am, that realized I was dreaming of him and potentially crushing on him.

“Fuck really Ashley, him?! One conversation and you’re crushing on the douche bag… good job.”

I tried going back to sleep but couldn’t, I had to wait until the morning to tell my best friend (at the time) what had happened and what emotions were erupting. A few days later, my girl was slyly inviting him and other colleagues of ours out for a swim, so that I could talk to him off work premises. It worked, swimming away from everyone else and spending a day chatting in the waters has made us inseparable since. 9 years later, married, and with one hilarious son.

I guess all I want to say is, girl if you're reading this (you must be in your late teens now), thank you. Thank you for making a huge ass fucking mess I had to clean up after work with my boo.

You and those sprinkles changed my life.
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