Have I ever told the story of Unfortunate Joe? No? Please note: the following takes place pre-Mark. Picture me, circa 2001, sitting at a coffee shop wearing black Jack Purcells , reading Jack Kerouac, listening to Jimmy Eat World, feeling super emo and super cool. I was a hipster before hipsters were hipsters. Enter, aside from my own husband of course, the most gorgeous young man ever to step foot in a Diedrich Coffee. Also wearing black Jack Purcells, the young man walks straight over to the group I'm with, sits down across from me and gives me his favorite lyric from Bleed American . ** Swoon** His name was Joe. He was a model. And allllll the ladies pretty much fell over themselves trying to get his attention. (Not me, of course, I would never do such a thing. Really I wouldn't. I have never in my life been labeled "boy crazy". Not ever.) SOMEHOW Joe ended up asking me out on a date. (Read: he had an extra ticket to a show, just needed a
