Love leads many to marriage license bureau

Cupid has a moustache and dimples.

Or at the very least, the Cupid who worked Sunday manning the marriage license counter at the Carson City Courthouse, did.

Richard Sifuentes, deputy clerk of the Marriage Bureau, spent the Labor Day weekend issuing licenses to the procrastinating and the impulsive.

"I had one guy come in here and say he just met her last night," Sifuentes said, laughing at the prospect of a match made at happy hour.

But in the few months that Sifuentes has taken on the part-time job, he has more happy than horror stories.

"It's kinda neat how I can hear all the little stories of how people met," he said. "And everyone is always in a good mood."

Carson City dentist Frank Hahn and his soon-to-be bride, Carol Sliger, stayed true to Sifuentes' observation.

Wearing shorts and loopy smiles, the couple decided to make it official after eight years together.

"This has the be the longest engagement on record," Sliger said beaming. "We've been talking about getting married forever but next weekend we are having a party for my parent's anniversary, and we thought we'd get married then."

Her parents will be celebrating their 64th year together.

For $60, a few easy questions and a copy of their driver's licenses, Sliger and Hahn were a step closer to being husband and wife.

Sifuentes said after the license is issued, couples have one year to get married and only in Nevada.

Soon-to-be-Mrs. Jamie Taylor and her husband-to-be Lucas, have every intention of using their license this weekend.

The high school sweethearts from Sacramento are finally tying the knot in Lake Tahoe after six years together.

Lucas comments on his shaking hand as he signs the certificate.

"OK, now I'm getting nervous," he announces as Jamie looks over his shoulder.

"Six years later he's nervous," she says laughing.

The couple has a room at Caesars in Stateline, and planned on marrying Sunday night. As soon as they get back to their hotel room, they said they would call their family to tell them to come down.

"We have to have our daughter here," Jamie said of the couple's 1-year-old girl Lillian.

After looking over their forms, Sifuentes goes through his spiel about who gets one of three copies of the marriage certificate and explains how to order more copies if the need arises. Then he sends the couple on their way.

Over the weekend his office saw about eight couples looking to get hitched.

"I like this job," he said smiling, his cherubic dimples sufficiently indented. "It's nice."