Dating Horror Story: Dinner Plate Dentures, or "Are You Going to Eat That?"

I must admit that in 1999, after the sudden death of my then-fiancee a mere 43 days before our Caribbean wedding, I was quite a wreck. We had been together for 5 years, planned a wedding in St. Croix for August 22nd, and he died suddenly on July 10th. I was devastated, and I cried 24 hours a day. Me--the pink clown, the always-up, effervescent princess of perky, the mayor of fun and frivolity--I literally cried 24 hours a day. Friends tried a hundred ways to cheer me. Hell, I tried hundreds of way to fight my own way out of the dismal grief in which I was sinking. It seemed hopeless, as nothing really worked.

Eventually one of my friends gave me a phone number to the local "Dateline." He said, "At least call here. It'll be good for a laugh, if nothing else. I just hate to see you crying all the time."

And so... after a few days, I decided I had nothing to lose and placed the call. After all, I really NEEDED a good laugh.