Columbus, Georgia. I was eating at a barbecue joint not far from the state line. Zombie Pig, the joint was called.

My cousin, John, insisted that Zombie Pig serves the best barbecue in state of Georgia. He made me promise to try it.

I walked inside. I ordered the ribs.

I ate them without sauce. The true test of ribs is to eat them dry. Barbecue sauce is like a beautiful woman. If she’s too sweet, she’s hiding something. If she’s too spicy, you’re going to be sorry in the morning.

Behind me was a young couple, eating. Early 20s. Maybe late teens. I could hear their conversation.

“Has your mom texted yet?” said the young man quietly. They were eating a massive plate of smoked meat.

“No,” said the young woman. “Not yet.”

“Do you think she’ll text you?”

“Don’t know. She’s definitely mad.”

“Bad mad?”

“Yes.”

“You think she’ll ever forgive us?”

The girl spoke with a mouthful. “I don’t know. She doesn’t like that we snuck off to get married.”

“‘Loping.’ I think that’s what they call it when you run away to get married.”

“She doesn’t like that we loped.”

“I can’t believe we did it. Can you?”

“No.”

“We’re really married.”

“I know.”

“Do you have any regrets?”

“No.”

“Me, neither.”

“I’d do it all over again.”

“Yes.”

I ate my ribs and listened. I have my mother in me. I can eavesdrop with the best of them.

The boy was chewing as he talked. “I think lots of people’s grandparents loped. My grandparents went to Donaldsonville to get married. You could get married young back then, without your parents permission. If you went to Donaldsonville.”

“Really?”

“That’s what Granddaddy told me.”

“So how can it be so wrong if our grandparents did it? I mean, what’s the difference between us and them?”

“No difference. Except they’re super old. My grandma just turned 60-something.”

They ate without conversing. I could hear them smacking their lips.

I turned around to sneak a glace at them. She was pretty. He was so skinny, God love him. He would’ve had to stand up five times just to make a shadow.

They were sitting on the same side of the table.

“My mom will come around,” she said. “As soon as we get good jobs. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll start looking for a better job as soon as we find a place to live.”

“God. Where are we going to live?”

“Anywhere. As long as I’m with you.”

More quiet. I started working on my coleslaw.

“How much do we have?” said the young woman.

“Money wise? I have $329 in my checking. I have a paycheck coming this week.”

“That’s not a lot.”

“Yeah, but that guy said he’ll rent us the apartment, so we’re good. We can afford this.”

“Can we?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes. I won’t be a loser forever.”

“You’re not a loser.”

“Yes, I am. But I won’t stay one. I’m going to make you a good husband. I’m going to show the world how much I love you. I’m going to break my back proving it. For as long as I live.”

“I’m going to do the same thing.”

“Maybe one day, our grandkids will be talking about how we loped, the same way we talk about our grandparents.”

I heard the sound of a quick kiss.

Best barbecue in Georgia.