Getting Along With Cliff

I first met him when I was only sixty. I was in the bank carrying a cigar when he swaggered in. He was wearing a grey Panama hat, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated his mouth, but I pretended not to notice.

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

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

At the clothing store, I learned that his name was Cliff, and that he was a hoarder. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a librarian.

I guess it was love at first get along. Some might say we had hats in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. He was thirteen years older than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still getting along for each other.