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It
was New Year's eve. The dawn of a new millenium, when our paths crossed
for the first time, or so we thought. For the next two hours, Paul impatiently waited for an opening; a chance to meet this woman who was mysteriously swept in with the wind. Once the clock officially chimed in the new year, he seized the opportunity to introduce himself. After polite how-do-you-do's, Randye cut to the quick, stating that she had yet to get a New Year's kiss. Paul of course, was delighted to oblige. That
was all it took. They were hooked. During the remainder of the evening,
or morning actually, they spoke of music, literature, technology, politics,
and all the other lofty subjects one would pontificate, in a smoky pub. The rest, as they say, is history. |