Swallowing With Hunter

I first met him when I was only thirty-four. I was in the hair salon carrying a fishing pole when he strolled in. He was wearing a sea green pair of shin guards, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated his mouth, but I pretended not to notice.

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

After stumbling apologies, he asked me to go to the nail salon for a shot of bourbon. I accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.

At the nail salon, I learned that his name was Hunter, and that he was a hair stylist. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as an errand runner.

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