The first time I laid eyes on Hugh, he was straddling another woman, fondling her chest, with his lips locked to hers and, the kicker is; my employers had paid actual cash money for the privilege of me seeing it.
Granted, the woman in question was made of plastic and less than likely to be enjoying Hugh’s tender ministrations but, still; awkward image.
Anyway, back to the story.
As I said, at my first glimpse of Hugh, he was straddling a pasty woman with a gaping mouth, rubber limbs and a really bad wig, commonly known as Resusci-Anne and; it wasn’t Anne‘s crazy wig that caught my attention no, my friends, it was the sight of Hugh’s fiiiiine ass as he straddled that dummy that drew me in.
We are talking, grade-A fiiiine ass on that one.
And, to my delight, that fine ass was connected to a very nice pair of (let’s be honest, here, somewhat skinny) legs, a trim waist, a muscled chest and the best-looking face that the San Loser Valley had ever seen and, I knew immediately that he wasn’t from around those parts.
Later that evening, Hugh and I went on our first unofficial date; I invited him out for a burger and he accepted (I paid because I was a thoroughly modern woman. And, he had left his wallet at home). Following dinner, we went to a local park and played catch and, no, that is not a euphemism for something dirty; I simply had softball gear in my car due to a recent bout with insanity, AKA: Joining a woman’s softball team.
That night went well enough for Hugh to ask me out again and, thus was born a whirlwind romance, resulting in a proposal of marriage six months later.
What can I say? Hugh took me to all the best places.
and he did dishes which, while clearly just a trick to get me into the sack considering that dishes have not featured in his repertoire since we said I Do (let this be a warning to you single girls out there who are gushing over how your new man cooks and cleans and rubs your feet when they are sore); can be easily forgiven since he continued to look fiiiine in a pair of Levi’s.
So fine that, eighteen years later, I still sometimes envision him straddling Anne when bends over to pick something up from the floor.
So, yeah… how you doin’?