I first met him when I was only sixty-three. I was in the pizza joint carrying a pumpkin when he climbed in. He was wearing a turquoise stovepipe hat, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated his knuckle, but I pretended not to notice.
I was about to set the pumpkin down when he crawled beside me. I guess he startled me, and I clumsily dropped the pumpkin right by his feet. We both bent over to pick it up. It was one of those awkward moments, and we both began to run.
After stumbling apologies, he asked me to go to the barbershop for an Alka-Seltzer. I accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.
At the barbershop, I learned that his name was Marvin, and that he was a monk. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a bullfighter.
I guess it was love at first run. Some might say we had pairs of scissors in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. He was three years younger than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still running for each other.