Whistling With Gilmo

I first met him when I was only thirty-two. I was in the flower shop carrying a can of shaving cream when he careened in. He was wearing a red Panama hat, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated his back, but I pretended not to notice.

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

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

At the supermarket, I learned that his name was Gilmo, and that he was a curmudgeon. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a pilot.

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