In her late teens my oldest sister Maureen had an enormous crush on a boy called Larry. Our father was not nearly so thrilled with Larry as Maureen was and referred to him, with obvious dislike, as Larry the Lounge Lizard. In my sister's eyes this was the perfect man, Mr. Right, "The One", and all the pet names my father could think of could not convince her he was anything less.
Maureen went to incredible lengths to catch the attention of Mr. Right, to no avail, and yet she persisted: new clothes, makeup, special haircuts, phone calls, flirting, hanging out with his friends and more, she chased after this man more efficiently than a hound dog on the trail of a rabbit. I recall my mother making the comment "God help this guy, he doesn't stand a chance." She was right.
(Click link above to continue.)