On Saturday, a man told me a lovely story.
He said he owned a French restaurant in Philly. It was he and his wife’s favorite. They loved it so much they bought it.
And as I reveled in this gorgeous story, I saw his left hand without gold as he hit on my friend and asked to take us to a club.
And THAT is why I have never been in a hurry to get married.
People, why even sign the contract if you’re just a big fat cheater? Foul.
Mamacita? Daddy-O? It’s all or nothing, right? 45 years running. You’ve set the bar high.