Fourteen years ago I pressed my wife up against the wall and bar pashed her. Ironically, she’s fourteen years older than me. I had recently returned from my overseas experience, and a friend of my gay brother suggested I hook up with Juliet.

I was comfortably tucked in bed watching a movie when the text message from Dick came through. “Hey buddy, we’re down at Rockpool. Come for drinks with Juliet.”

I leaped out of bed like an energiser bunny, put my cheap youthful looking jacket on with a hood stitched into it. A pump of cologne and off I went.

Walked straight into the restaurant full of confidence and put my arm around her. There was a nervous sexual energy. She looked at me with a surprised yet intrigued look. We both knew we’d been set up. We both knew it would be fun.

We drank and drank. I slammed my brand spanking new credit card down on the bar as we downed Petrone shots. The opportunity came knocking. I pressed her up against the wall, leaned in closer and let the tip of my tongue slip in. At first it was short, we leaned back and smirked at each other, then our tongues lashed in a little deeper.

She argued “I don’t go home with people on the first night” as I promptly jumped in her taxi. The night was sealed, but the wife was not.

I knew we’d be together. The way she told me “I’ve never met anyone like you” was so cliche. The smitten face she had. It told my heart everything I needed to know.

It took me three weeks before I saw Juliet again. The tale continues…

Till next time. Romeo