I owned a small laundromat called “The Laundromat” on Fire Island. Carol walked in with musty sheets and towels from her share house. I quoted her $48.50 (this was in 1976). “I’m from the Bronx,” she said. “I don’t pay $48.50 for laundry. I’m going to the other place.” She left in a huff, returning only an hour later, all disheveled, hot and annoyed. “There is no other place,” she said. “I know,” I replied, “but I couldn’t tell you because I know you wouldn’t have believed me.” And that’s how I met my dear wife of 43 years. — Rick Kushner