She smiled at me, and I was like, “Why the hell is that type of girl smiling at me?” I was watching Star Trek: Voyager reruns on my dual monitor setup at work. She was “cheerleader hot”: size zero, tanned, practiced yoga. To say the least, she wasn’t my “type,” but I invited her out with my friend and I to see a movie. Afterward I asked her if she wanted to come over and have some spaghetti. We got back to my studio apartment, and I told her I wasn’t the type to kiss a girl first. She did. It was primal. Hot. Over and over.
Postscript: We were married eight months later. Our first child was born one year after that.
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