Eleven years ago, I wrote a script for a telemarketing company and subsequently trained all the new employees—except one, a tall lanky boy named Damon. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t speak to me. The managers elbowed and teased as he’d walk pass my desk. Day after day. Shift after shift.
It wasn’t a month before we sat across from each other on our first date. The shy boy talked. A lot. He covered his childhood and future goals in between the few hours that school separated us. We’d study together while I fed my bird (the perks of being an animal and vet student). Few things weren’t discussed and the day before we packed the last of my single life into a cardboard box he asked one question, “You’re not really keeping that bird, are you?”
Apparently, we hadn’t quite discussed everything. He confessed, “I don’t like animals.”
And then, “I’m never having animals.”