They call it the meet-cute in movie terms. How the couple meets. You know, like bending over to retrieve the last packet of frozen peas from the supermarket freezer… you both reach… for that last packet. Both of you… grasping its frozen slipperiness in your fingers…a tear, green peas fleeing for their lives in the faux arctic landscape…you lock eyes into hate, love, hate, lust, something. But never indifference.
In reality, I have never met someone in the supermarket. Have you? Maybe you have. But in reality, who strikes up a conversation over the fresh fruit aisle? A conversation that’s not with the person weighing your produce? Places I have met men that would qualify as meet-cute material:
That’s why aeons ago, I started collecting stories. You know the kind - how did you meet, how did you know? Let me tell you one thing, there are a lot of braai stories out there. If there’s one thing I can glean from this informal research is that friend of a friend tends to be a winner. But occasionally I get some goodies, like:
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