I met my wife on a blind date. I was waiting for her and checking out petite blondes who roughly matched her description, thinking "That one would be okay" or "Uh oh, I hope that's not her". Then I saw her and thought "WOW! Nah, it'd be too good to be true. Besides, she's way too young". When she waved, I turned and looked behind me because I didn't think she could be waving at me.
So, the first things I noticed were long blonde hair, a gorgeous face and a figure like Jessica Rabbit's.
It got even better from there: She loved to cook and exercise, hated to shop, had two college degrees and owned her own house free and clear. She was the most stable and rational woman I'd ever met. She's crazy every twenty-eight days, of course, but other than that.
I knew her mother had recently died and that she was emotionally vulnerable. I exploited that knowledge to take advantage of her in shocking ways. I was so cunningly clever that you could have pinned a tail on me and called me a weasel. She was deceived as to my true nature until she had been manipulated into marriage. A marriage in legal terms only - it's actually a form of bondage serving only to fill my selfish needs, and dooming her to a life of drudgery and servitude. By the time she realized what a callous, depraved, coarse brute I am - a monster, really, following only my basest instincts - it was too late. She has such a strong sense of responsibility that she'll endure it no matter how neglected, used, unfulfilled and dissatisfied she feels.
I do realize how fortunate I am. There was a huge element of luck involved, without which none of my shameless maneuvers would have been successful. I make it a point every now and then to let her know that I'll be reasonably fond of her while her looks and inheritance last.
