Throwing Up With Beatrice

I first met her when I was only thirty-seven. I was in the photography studio carrying a bowl when she padded in. She was wearing an ivory tie, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her esophagus, but I pretended not to notice.

I was about to set the bowl down when she stalked beside me. I guess she startled me, and I clumsily dropped the bowl right by her feet. We both bent over to pick it up. It was one of those awkward moments, and we both began to throw up.

After stumbling apologies, I asked her to go to the antique store for a milkshake. She accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.

At the antique store, I learned that her name was Beatrice, and that she was a bank teller. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a guitarist.

I guess it was love at first throw up. Some might say we had pots in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. She was seventeen years older than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still throwing up for each other.