In the Closet

No, not that! Though I love and approve of friends and family that are gay or lesbian.

I was in southern California, my sweet old dog had died and I met a guy. It was the dot-bomb era and the company left a white board up with the last item being “fire employees.” They all saw it and went home for the weekend to not sleep and wait to see if their name was on the list. They fired 1/3 of the workforce.

We had only gone out for a couple of weeks but I knew he was wicked smart and a “keeper” and I saw his dark apartment and tons of individual string cheese wrappers going from frig to the dual-brained computer he created from nothing and thought, this guy needs help.

His laundry system was clean pile, dirty pile. He would try to match clean pile socks. I did all the wash, folded it and set it up in two closets. He caught me in the smaller closet and said I needed to learn the Texas Two-Step. It’s been years and I don’t remember it. We started dancing in the closet then out into the living area and he moved away. Actually, that’s why I folded all the clothes, so they could go easily into boxes. Luckily I did, as his mother would have killed him otherwise! She still interviewed me for five days before we married.

He was gone for only two weeks. I had to pay for maids to come into his place. When he returned a guy he gave his recliner to next door asked why he drove back halfway across the country. He simply said, “her.”

Aah, true love. We met a couple of weeks after 9/11 and married (eloped) a year or so later after meeting all the folks. Nearly fifteen years officially, now. No. There are no clean/dirty piles of laundry. Everything is folded, appropriately stored, all the socks are matched and shirts and dress pants go to the drycleaner.

We have an old Zoe dog nearing 14 years who we got at six weeks. She has cataracts and is also losing her hearing and is tripping a bit on walks. No more string cheese, he’s become an expert on cheddar. I created a food snob, and while I packed for him for 12 years now he has his own (and my) suitcases and packs for himself. I just drop off his shirts and make sure they’re boxed.

Be careful, that Texas Two-Step can get you into a lifetime relationship! Dee


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