Today we decided to go to Malibu and live out our Rockford Files fantasies. Except, you know, the car.
In theory this was our anniversary, but of what exactly? It has been fifteen years since we rocked up at the 24 Hour Church of Elvis, got hit with a magic wand, signed some papers, accidentally ended up on the evening news. Though in my view that was simply the day we scammed a discriminatory system, the day I became officially eligible for health insurance.
The only vows we took, the only promise I could have made given the distrait circumstances? To remain friends.