Joanne was always terribly self-conscious, plus she had the better camera, and so after four and a half years together, I ended up with perhaps four decent photographs of my first serious girlfriend. This, together with a few old shots from the yearbook, left me entirely unprepared for the Joanne I would meet at our high-school reunion 20 years later. I swear, it was just like in
Star Trek, where they cut from craggy old Dr. McCoy to the woman he’s destined to fall for that episode: soft lights, sweet music, and just a smear of Vaseline on the lens.
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