First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes John Rocker in a restaurant in Atlanta on your 6th wedding anniversary. Of course.

Terry and I celebrated the 6th year of our sacrament of holy matrimony this past Sunday. And what (or who) says "sacred" better than John Rocker?
Remember that face? Perhaps you will remember his timeless words about minorities and New Yorkers? Or perhaps you'd just like to look at his super-cool website where you can buy tee shirts that say 'Speak English' on them? Yeah, he's awesome. (Belch.)

Close to closing on a Sunday night, in an almost empty restaurant in Atlanta, a hostess thought it would be a good idea to seat us directly next to John Rocker and Miss Calhoun County. Like, a foot away from one another (and despite the 100 other tables she had to choose from), him and his lady friend ordered the exact same combination of entrees and side dishes as me and Terry. Terry and the teeny girl ordered a light pan-seared fillet of trout with a side of sliced tomatoes, while me and the baseball-playing Hulk ordered fried chicken, mac and cheese, and squash casserole. As I glanced over at his tree trunk thighs, I gave taking another bite [of my fried chicken thigh] a second thought.

He dwarfed my 6'4" husband. And like many famous/not-so-famous famous folks, his personality filled the room almost more than his relaxed fit jeans and size 17 leather loafers. (Without socks. Yuck.)

Before either of us knew who he was, we were both guilty of shamelessly staring at the goofball who would (in the most conspicuous way) sensually kiss the top of his girlfriend's head, every time he got up to go to the bathroom. Which was about every 10 minutes. Like watching a train wreck, Terry and I couldn't pull our eyes away from the collision of his big ole man lips and her bleach blonde hair, which took place every opportunity the peacock had to preen.

His voice carried throughout the empty restaurant about topics that were so uninteresting I just had to listen. For instance, he declared his love for fried chicken over trout to his date with a booming,

"I DON'T LIKE FISH. I'LL GET CHICKEN."

Terry and I could barely finish a sentence to each other, as one brilliant boom after another echoed in our ears.

But it was all worth it when Terry slid a napkin across the table that said, "i think that's john rocker." To which I scribbled, "who?" And he writes back, "the brave's pitcher who made news a few years ago for being a racist idiot in ny." And I, "oh yeah."

Seconds after Terry got up to use the bathroom, the waitress brought us our celebratory slice of chocolate cake. Apparently the Rocker duo had also just ordered the same dessert, as I hear her whisper,

"That's about to be our's too! Ooooh, yummy."

And he boomed,

"CHOCOLATE CAKE IS AWESOME."

(Maybe he didn't sound that dumb, but that's the jist of what we heard. Think Puddy from Seinfeld.) Feeling their eyes all over my luscious cake, I turned around and smiled. She giggled and said,

"Oh my gah- she heard us."

I make some dumb small talk about how good dinner was and how AWESOME chocolate cake is and forever will be, just as Terry returns from the bathroom. And does not sensually kiss my head, but whatever.

And after the 2 couples polish off their celebratory cake, we turn to each other as if to acknowledge our bizarro identities (where I'm John Rocker and Terry is an ex-Falcons cheerleader with lip/boob implants) from a parallel universe, meeting for the first time at an empty restaurant. I say,

"Was the cake everything you hoped it wo---", cut short by Mr.Rocker's final boom of the evening,

"AND MORE!"

Just as our anniversary was everything I hoped it would be. AND MORE!