The story of us began because of a really good sandwich.
When we were both students at Art Center in Pasadena, California, the weekends were hungry ones. The school cafeteria wasn’t open, and the people who actually remembered to bring food were insanely popular. Enter Greg Preston with his little “playmate” ice chest, and the two greatest turkey & cheese sandwiches this girl had ever seen. Gotta admit here that I knew Greg had been stalking me, but when the cookies and cokes came tumbling out of the cooler after the sandwiches, I sold my dignity for lunch.
Now comes the part where he talked me into moving to the God forsaken city of Las Vegas. I dug in my heels for a full year, cuz I had a primo job at Southern California Edison. Here’s where Greg tempted me by telling me about the fully assumable house loans in this crazy town. This is the part where I held my breath and jumped for the “white picket fence” dream.
Three studios, three houses, two sons, one dog, three cats, and two tortoises later, Greg asks me to sit down and say something about us. And all I can think is that I am the luckiest woman alive to share a life with this fun and talented guy.
The moral of our story is never underestimate the transforming power of a good sandwich, or the man on the side…