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.”
6 comments:
Clarissa -- Love the chicken and the entire post. Does Damon like animals now? Thanks for the smile today.
He swears he still doesn't like animals (but I do catch him cradling the cat or hugging on the dogs)
Interesting story. Even if he 'doesn't like animals' it's good to know he lives with the zoo of animals on your little farm. Now about that horse...
Sweet post, Clarissa. My favorite line: "Yeah about that." We never know what we will put up with when we love someone. Thanks. xoA
Now that's true love! Cute intro to your relationship. I enjoy hearing about your family having only seen you in professional writer mode.
Jenny Estes, stay tuned. There's plenty of blog fodder in this house. ;)
Post a Comment