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The future Mr. and Mrs. Eirby went on their first date without knowing each other's Christian names.

The two were stationed together at the Marine Corps base in Twentynine Palms, Calif., a place where people generally address each other by rank or last name.

He was Eirby and she was Wrice until halfway through dinner, when he leaned over and asked her for her real name.

"I said 'Ebony' and he started laughing," she said. "He said, 'My name is Ivory.' "

A year later, on Sept. 5, 1998, Ebony and Ivory drove to Las Vegas and got married at a small chapel near the courthouse downtown.

A few days after that, their marriage certificate arrived at the Clark County Recorder's Office, where it was tucked away in two very different files -- one official, the other "funny."

For years, staff members at the recorder's office have secretly collected copies of the marriage filings that make them smile, mostly strange names, name combinations, and things that sound dirty even though they're not.

The stack of records is several inches thick and includes a Fox who married a Squirrell, a Crook who married a Judge, and a Bunn who married a Burger. For those who prefer to hyphenate, there is Blue-Bonnett, Buffalomeat-Cleaver and Makinen-Love.

Then there are the names that seem to spell doom for a marriage or guarantee its success, depending on your perspective. There are brides named Tequilla Rockett and Bunnie Easter. There are grooms named Mickey Mouse and Portside I. Starboardside.

There is the woman from Indiana who married a man named Bridegroom and the woman from Hawaii who married a man named Linsenmayerknielingdearaujo, all 27 letters of him.

During her 12 years with the recorder's office, Jo Barber has contributed more stuff to the funny file than most.

"The job can be boring. If you got something that breaks it up and gives you a laugh, it makes the day go faster," she said.

But not all funny names and name combinations are suitable for a wide audience.

"They could be a little risqué," Barber said.

That's why "the R-rated ones" are kept in a separate stack, said Susan Wohlbrandt, spokeswoman for the recorder's office.

The marriage certificate for Roy D. Wesson and Peggy Jean Smith is in the G-rated pile. The Fort Worth, Texas, couple are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary today.

"We're still married. It's been great," said Peggy, who took Roy's name after their Valentine's Day wedding at Little Chapel of the Flowers on Las Vegas Boulevard.

The two met in a bar in Texas. Peggy said they really didn't think much about their last names "until people started joking about it."

"We lived together for four years before we got married. It was a big joke for (our friends) to send mail to Smith and Wesson," she said.

For the record, Peggy said she and her husband don't collect firearms or belong to the National Rifle Association.

"There are no guns in the house, and we aren't hunters. We're just not those kind of people," she said.

When Indiana residents Joey Wrigley and Melinda Gum tied the knot in Las Vegas in 2000, a copy of their wedding announcement was featured during the "Headlines" segment of "The Tonight Show with Jay Leno." A few weeks later, the Wrigley company sent them a case of chewing gum and a pair of matching sweatshirts.

But Melinda said that when they first started dating in high school, the sticky combination of their last names never even occurred to them.

"It was a while before we figured it out," she said. "I was just glad my last name wasn't going to be Gum anymore. I kind of got teased a lot with that name."

The Wrigley family now includes sons ages 4 and 1. They live outside Gary, Ind., where Joey is a firefighter and Melinda works for U.S. Steel.

Joey said the only time their last name combination has caused a problem was when they booked a trip to Florida before they were married. The travel agent didn't want to sell them plane tickets at first, he said. "She thought I was kidding when I told her our names."

For Ebony and Ivory, the "name thing" used to come up constantly.

"People would just start singing that song," Ebony said.

That song, of course, is "Ebony and Ivory," the 1982 duet by Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder. Even before she met Ivory, Ebony never cared much for the tune. Hearing it sung over and over again by grinning amateurs didn't help matters any.

Ebony's mom, Evelyn Wrice, said she took the names as a sign that the young couple "must have been meant for each other."

"I thought they were pretty much like me and my husband. I thought they'd be together 30 years," Wrice said.

Ivory's mom "just thought it was the funniest thing she ever heard," Ebony said.

The fact was, Ebony and Ivory never addressed each other by their first names. They used their middle names instead -- Antjuan for him, Regina for her.

"He didn't like his name," Ebony explained.

Five months ago, Ivory was killed in a motorcycle accident in Atlanta, where he and Ebony were stationed. The Marine sergeant was a few weeks shy of his 29th birthday.

"He was an outgoing person," said Ebony, 28, who left the Marine Corps and now works as a nurse in Walterboro, S.C. "You could never be mad at him. He was always turning it around and making a joke out of it."

This is her first Valentine's Day without him. She expects it to be hard, because Ivory was an old-fashioned romantic, always quick to open the car door for her or send her flowers.

"I would always have roses. He tried to keep me spoiled, that's for sure."