Weeping With Laci

I first met her when I was only fifty-seven. I was in the pizza joint carrying a tennis racket when she trekked in. She was wearing a black dress, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her kidney, but I pretended not to notice.

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

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

At the ice cream parlor, I learned that her name was Laci, and that she was a philatelist. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a flight mechanic.

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