Exhaling With Hattie

I first met her when I was only thirty-one. I was in the bike shop carrying a coat check ticket when she sallied forth in. She was wearing an olive green pair of handcuffs, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her kneecap, but I pretended not to notice.

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

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

At the cigar store, I learned that her name was Hattie, and that she was a communist. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a mechanic.

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