Match Made in Heaven

I've said it once and I'll say it again, my roommate Karen is my long-lost twin. (She got the looks, I got the awkward social skills.) The synchronization of our minds is so complete, we can carry on complete conversations with no one else in the room following along.

So the other night Karen confesses to me she adores men in glasses. I nod in furious agreement. For attestation of my enchantment with men in frames, let's review all the guys I've dated who didn't wear glasses: Graham . . . Nate . . . and, uh . . . Ken. That's it. Three non-bespectacled guys in the history of my dating life. (A history that would provide hours of entertainment for you all if I were so inclined to share. Seriously.)

A few minutes later I comment on my attraction to guys with puffy hair, a la Colin Firth and Jeremy Northam. "Ooo, yes," Karen concurs.

Then she pulls out, "Hey, what about a puffy-haired guy in glasses? Hot right?"

I respond, "I don't know how I would restrain myself."

The doorbell rings seconds later and I hop up to get it. Standing there was a puffy-haired guy wearing glasses. Dead serious. Somehow Karen and I bridled our passion, but not our giggles which persisted late into the evening.

It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Karen, thanks for being stupid with me.