Crouching With Clive

I first met him when I was only seventeen. I was in the barbershop carrying a bag of potato chips when he barrelled in. He was wearing a fuchsia polo shirt, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated his gall bladder, but I pretended not to notice.

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

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

At the bus station, I learned that his name was Clive, and that he was a stagehand. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a music teacher.

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