At twenty-two I fell in love with a firefighter. I’m not sure if it was his biceps, his broad shoulders, or the fact that he walked through fire for a living, but boy, did I fall hard.
Our first encounter was at a music festival. I was standing in the pit listening to Bob Dylan when my dad’s friend Tom passed out on the ground. This man was the paramedic on duty, and he immediately came over and started CPR. The way he took control of the situation was an instant turn-on. Once Tom was conscious, he and my dad went to the medical tent while I stayed in front of the stage to chat up this beautiful man. Six Coors Lights brought about some grade-A flirting, and a week later we went on our first date.
