When I first got married - well when I was married for the first time - it was to - no - not married - just engaged - to a Territorial - yeah - no - he wasn't a Territorial - I think he was in the army - it doesn't matter - he'd come home on leave - and - in between I'd spend my time driving up and down the road looking for young men hitch-hiking in army shirts so that I could pick them up. "Do you perhaps know him?" I'd ask. "I just happen to be going where you're going". God knows how much money I spent, driving all over the country. Oh to be young again.
My second husband was a bit of a pansy. I don't know why we ever married. He used to cook. There's nothing more sexy than a man who cooks. But if you're a man who cooks you have to be macho. He wasn't macho at all - he was a pansy. He used to do things like boil potatoes. Anyone can boil potatoes. A real man does shrimp cocktails and garlic bread. No, no. Not my Arnold. He'd usually end up having to mash the spuds anyway. Over done. Over boiled.