Squeaking With Joan

I first met her when I was only thirty-two. I was in the gym carrying a fishing rod when she bounded in. She was wearing a peach locket, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her larynx, but I pretended not to notice.

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

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

At the grocery store, I learned that her name was Joan, and that she was a banker. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a woodcarver.

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