David and I met in the fall of 1978 in the least romantic place imaginable: a hardware store in Akron, Ohio.
I was twenty-three, standing in front of a display of weatherstripping, completely unsure which kind I needed for the drafty door of my apartment.
A man in the next aisle noticed my confusion.
Without making a big deal of it, he said,
“The foam usually works better than felt for exterior doors around here.”
I told him I wasn’t sure mine technically counted as an exterior door because it
