The Story of Carlyn and Bale

Saturday afternoon, Carlyn and Bale, one of the happiest couples become card carrying members of The Marrieds Club, and I couldn’t be happier for them.

Their history is a good one, and Ill do my best to tell it.

I met Bale first, the summer of 2003, on a boat docked in the waters in Georgetown. I was w the Mr. that night, who at the time was still Roommate w Sexual Tension, and we were off on another drunken adventure filled w bud lights, peanut butter cups and a strong dose of relationship denial.

“This is Heather, my new roommate. Heather, this is Bale.” We shook hands and I was delighted to see Roommate had friends of the attractive and friendly nature. Bale was cute in a boyish way. His eyes sparkled when he smiled, and he did a lot. He loved everything about DC, where he had lived all his life. He was also a card carrying member of the Bon Jovi fan club, (no joke) which I didn’t know at the time, which is good because I would have thoroughly judged him on such. (Which I did at a later date but by then, it was too late) Anyway. At the time of introductions, I thought Roommate said Bales, not Bale, which in retrospect makes no sense because only morons make nicknames for themselves plural, but anyway, that’s what I called him all night. Bales.

We drank beers on the boat and listened to 80s rock until a thunderstorm blew in, soaking us until we couldn’t see in front of us, we were dripping and it made no sense to care anymore. We just drank in the rain, happy as clams.

“So Bales, you work at…” I had already said his name like 50 times at this point.

“Look,” he said like a douche, “its Bale. No S. Get it right.” And then he walked away and started to talking to someone else. I do NOT appreciate it when people make me look like an idiot. People have been assaulted for less.

“Your stupid friend is banned,” I told Roommate as we left to get Greek food in Georgetown to end our night.

It was late 2008 when I first met Carlyn, the easy on the eyes, flaxen haired, light eyed, mouthy New Yorker.

I heard about Carlyn first from Bale’s girlfriend at the time, who I was friends with. “He invited his physical therapist to his birthday happy hour. I’m not going. Tell me what happens,” said the girlfriend. Physical therapist I guess was now on the same level as Nazi, or at least you’d think so by the tone of her voice. And so I did. I went to the happy hour and met her and I think said, “So you’re the therapist,” which was meant to be said in a judging manner at the time, but it didn’t work bc Carlyn is from Long Island. And she was pretty. And she was nice. And she was obviously there because she liked Bale on some level and she made him smile in a not so much I’m your physical therapist type way, but maybe a let’s get physical type way and I knew what we would all watch unfold from happy hour 1.

And so I told current girlfriend, “She’s awful. Don’t worry about her.” Both lies, looking back, and at the time intentional.

The next time I saw Carlyn was again at our beloved Hatter, this time I’m not sure what for. It was definitely something Bale related. The gf wasn’t there. And though I don’t remember too much, I remember some random hugging and cigarette smoking in the alley w Carlyn. Who knows what we thought we had in common, outside of general drunken awesomeness. Hugging in dark alleys, though, is typically an indication of a new friendship.

I do know that was the night when I knew Bale and Carlyn would be together, because I spent 3 hours watching him stare at her and when they left the bar, they waited until they rounded the corner and were out of sight before they held hands. Unfortunately for everyone, I am a super spy by nature, though, and I saw them and I told on Bale the next day, and I did it on purpose.

He wasn’t supposed to be with his current girlfriend anymore, anyway. He knew that, she knew that, and now the whole bar knew who he was supposed to be with and goddamn it, if people don’t help themselves, I’m happy to do it for them.

It took them months to make it official, but it happened, and we were all grateful that it did. Its so painful watching happy and giddy people do the “new relationship” dance. You just want them to hurry up through the cotton candy phase and find something wrong with each other already.

But oddly enough, after a few years, AND moving in with each other, AND planning their wedding together, I don’t think they’ve left the world of rainbows and unicorns and pink fluffy clouds, where Bon Jovi is President and Ambien goes well w Red Bull and the Nats win the series and the Redskins are actually relevant. (Their dream world)

They came and saw us last year in Germany and we were sad to see them go after more than a week. We’re not sad to ever see anyone go after that long. And so I know, without a doubt, that CBale squared (Chris and Carlyn) are in for a lifetime of happiness together.

I’m just lucky to be a part of the official part this weekend.

Happy, happy wedding week, Car and Bale. I love you both mucho and you both desrve all the happiness

(Correction. By long island, I meant staten island. Which still means loud new yorkers that love the yankees. So who care which island hahah)