My mom was a bartender in a topless bar. Dad was a Navy sailor. I wish I could say they were still married, but they separated right before their 20th wedding anniversary and divorced officially about 2 years ago.
In college. According to my mom, my dad was the annoying guy who’d ask involved questions right at the end of class and keep everyone late. Now I know where I get it. 
This is all I know, as my parents never tell us any stories about this sort of thing…
My mom was a dental hygenist.
My dad was a patient of said dentist.
They had exchanged pleasantries on and off for about a year, when the dentist decided they would make a good couple.
He called up my dad one day to tell him that some bridge work Dad was waiting for was done. As he was about to hang up the phone, he said: “Hold on a minute, Les. I think Adele wanted to talk to you.”
The dentist then went into the lab where Mom was and said: “Adele, Les is on the phone. I think he wants to ask you out!”
They were married almost 40 years when my dad died in 1996.
My mom was a dental hygienist.
My dad was a patient of said dentist.
They had exchanged pleasantries on and off for about a year, when the dentist decided they would make a good couple.
He called up my dad one day to tell him that some bridge work Dad was waiting for was done. As he was about to hang up the phone, he said: “Hold on a minute, Les. I think Adele wanted to talk to you.”
The dentist then went into the lab where Mom was and said: “Adele, Les is on the phone. I think he wants to ask you out!”
They were married almost 40 years when my dad died in 1996.
My parents were each on vacation in Miami. They were out on the beach looking for shells, walking backwards, and they bumped into each other. Dad knew Mom was Jewish because she had on a tiny Star of David necklace. They’ve been married 45 years.
My father was stationed in Tehran in 1976. He was friends with my aunt and her husband. They introduced him to my mother. When he found out that they were clearing out all the bases he asked my mom if she wanted to go with him. The got married in March of '78 and left that July.
She kicked him out in '85. They divorced in '88. I think it was his longest marriage. One before my mom, one after and last I heard he stood one woman up at the altar.
Helluva thread Nichol. It reminds me of What did your grandfather do?
My father was a Canadian who served with the U.S. Army during WWII. On the G.I. Bill, after the war, he attended the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor as a Ph.D. candidate in anthropology. He met my mother, a Masters candidate in archeology at same, on a dig (I know not where) in about 1948-49.
They were married in 1950. My sister was born in 1951, I came along in 1953 and my younger brother was born in 1957; step sibs and adopted little sister came along after that. They divorced in 1975.
The rest is history.
They met at a county fair in Wisconsin. My mom was 16 and there with her folks, and my dad was running the Tilt-A-Whirl ride.
It was during the Korean War. The flodfather, who had no real urge to crawl through the mud at the 38th Parallel, nonetheless felt duty-bound to serve his country - besides, he was dropping out of college and he wasn’t going to have much of a choice. So he figured out how to join the Navy before they could draft him into the Army. He was assigned to a ship based in Barcelona and couldn’t believe his luck.
On the way there, Dad and the guys he was travelling with had an overnight stopover in a small city. Since they knew no one there, they went to the USO hall. Some local girls were there to dance with the sailors and soldiers, and Dad spied a girl he just had to talk to. He fortified himself with a couple beers and asked her to dance, even though he hates to dance, just to get a chance to talk to her. When it was time to go he asked her for her address so he could write to her. She wrote it down on a slip of paper for him, but assumed he’d lose it or change his mind and she’d never hear from him again. Happened all the time to the young women at the USO.
She figured on that happening right up until she got a letter from him. And yes, that would be my Mom. That makes me a USO baby. They married after Dad was discharged from active service, but he was in the Naval Reserves for many years. They celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary in '02.
My parents met on a double date, where they WEREN’T each other’s date, if you follow me. My dad was the date of my mother’s friend, but was much more interested in my mother. He wrote her a letter asking her out (this was 1960 or so) and the rest is history.
My mom still has the letter. I have seen it. It’s very sweet.
My parents met in a cycling club in the 1950s. The idea of my Da being in any way athletic is hard to imagine nowadays but he cut quite a dash in his cycling gear. They wheeled around together for a year or two before getting married in 1959. They’re both in their seventies now and are still going strong (although they could argue for Ireland).
Dad tripped over Mom while chasing a squirrel on the Rutgers campus. (Actually, that’s a pretty good metaphor for their relationship.) They got married when my dad was about to be transferred to Chicago, and I’ll never figure out how they stayed together as long as they did (12 years).
Of course, it’s nt nearly as good a story as how Dad met my stepmom. That was in a therapist’s waiting room, as each was seeing half of a husband/wife therapist couple while going through their repsective divorces.
My parents met on a ski trip to Mount Kosciuszko (in Australia; they grew up there) in the mid '50’s. Mom was actually with another guy at the time, but liked the looks of that “cute, curly-headed guy”. They met, married, and moved to America.
They’ve been married for 47 years now.
My mom was a bridesmaid for her cousin, and my dad was my “uncle’s” best man. My uncle took my dad’s car instead of the requisite “getaway” car, so my dad was stuck driving a car home that said “Just Married” with the tin cans and such. He had to give my mom a ride home.
My mom was freshly divorced, had just moved back home with my two sisters to live with my grandmother, and when my dad pulled up in the drive, my grandmother came out of the house and said, “Oh no, not again!” 
They got married 6 weeks later, and will celebrate their 39th wedding anniversary this December.
My dad’s family moved two houses down from my mother’s house when they were eight and seven, respectively. They didn’t start dating until they were 17 and 16. Married when they were 22 and 21, for 19 years before they divorced in '96.
They sat next to each other in confirmation class - the same church they were married in, the same church we were all baptized in, the same church they renewed their vows in on their fiftieth anniversary, the same church they still attend.
Regards,
Shodan
They were both in the local chapter (is that what you call it?) of Junior Achievement. They stayed together until my Dad died, the day before their 49th anniversary.
My father met my Mother in an office building in Dallas where she was an elevator operator (needless to say, this was in the early '50’s: “Sixth floor, lingerie; seventh floor, hardware; watch your step, sir”). Unfortunately, my father died before I had a chance to ask him just what exactly he said to her between the 1st and 20th floors that made my mom go out with him. I’ve seen pictures of her then and she was a fox (and no, dammit, I didn’t inherit any of the “good-looking” genes).
Mom was pushing a piano down the hall at Ouchita Baptist college in Arkanasas, and dad opened the door for her.
Like many middle class Jewish teens in Brooklyn in the 1950’s, my parents spent their summers working at camps in the Catskills. Dad was a waiter and Mom was a babysitter. They met at camp and started dating in around 1956. They got married in 1958 and moved to Los Angeles. I was born in 1963 and my sister was born in 1965. They divorced in 1972 and still don’t speak to one another. 
Haj