This is a story from long ago, my long ago, when I was young. I was living on the Oregon Coast. I worked at a beach side restaurant where I was training to be a chef. My days were long and I worked 6 days a week for months at a time. When I finally got some downtime, on Monday when the restaurant was closed, I spent it with the people I worked with because everyone else was working their 9 to 5’s. Early on in my employment at the restaurant I met Margo. She was the dining room manager and worked each evening as a server. We worked nearly every shift together. I ran the kitchen and she ran the dining room. Margo was a petite brunette with beautiful long straight hair that she tied in a pony tail when she worked. She was smart as a whip, funny and the epitome of the girl next door. I’ve never seen anyone work a table like she did. Rowdy college kids, horny businessmen and loud families were all under her spell when she was serving them. She never took shit from anyone. That was the first thing that drew me to her. Of course, that took some time. Our start was rough. Though we started at the restaurant within days of each other from the start she had a way she wanted things done and, being me, I did, too. For months we butted heads. At one point, she even threw a water pitcher at me. It was full. She had a way of getting right up in my face, like inches away, and telling me exactly what I was doing wrong. We were oil and water. Our coworkers called it hate. Me? I liked it. I liked her fire, her passion, her intelligence. I was hooked.