Getting Rigid With Sam

I first met him when I was only twenty. I was in the art gallery carrying a bag of potato chips when he strolled in. He was wearing an azure fig leaf, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated his piehole, but I pretended not to notice.

I was about to set the bag of potato chips down when he traipsed 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 get rigid.

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

At the saloon, I learned that his name was Sam, and that he was an upholsterer. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a typist.

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