The day was finally here. We (my best friend and I) have been waiting for this since May. The anticipation was high, and our footsteps were graced with ... rose petals and heart-shaped confetti.
In hindsight, making citizens get divorced on Valentine's Day is Bexar County's way of making sure it's a done deal. It's one of the most unromantic things a person can do. The major factor we didn't take into account was the throngs wearing red and white thongs waiting to get married in a group ceremony on the front steps of the courthouse. We were so wrapped up in the finality of her divorce, we forgot about all the people in love, ready to take the plunge. We just felt sorry for the poor bastards and wanted to scream, "RUN! Don't do it. Save yourself!"
Once we found the courtroom, there was a very serious vibe in there. That was no surprise for me. My friend was mystified however, asking me why she's the only one who is happy to be getting a divorce. I tell her every one there has their own situation we are (thankfully) unaware of — plus the three Mai Tais she had at lunch probably have something to do with her mood.
She swears to tell the truth, and answers questions about living in Bexar County, having kids or being pregnant, sharing a significant amount of property with her soon-to-be ex-husband (who isn't there by the way), and if there is any way they can "work it out?" Does the last question actually make people turn around, walk out, and try again? If you've already done all the paperwork, shown up to divorce court on Valentine's Day and paid the meter, I think your mind is made up!
All in all, her ultimate joy (for now) came in 11 simple words from the judge: "I grant your name change and I grant you your divorce." We celebrated with a drink at the Friendly Spot. I hope wherever your relationship takes you that it will always be friendly.