Sneering With Frankie

I first met him when I was only twenty-four. I was in the grocery store carrying a contract when he strode in. He was wearing a yellow badge, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated his wrist, but I pretended not to notice.

I was about to set the contract down when he skidded beside me. I guess he startled me, and I clumsily dropped the contract right by his feet. We both bent over to pick it up. It was one of those awkward moments, and we both began to sneer.

After stumbling apologies, he asked me to go to the tattoo parlor for a glass of iced tea. I accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.

At the tattoo parlor, I learned that his name was Frankie, and that he was a math teacher. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a percussionist.

I guess it was love at first sneer. Some might say we had boomerangs in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. He was fifteen years younger than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still sneering for each other.