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For Art's Sake

The story of how I met Christine still amazes me. Who knew the adventure I'd embark upon when the phone rang that Sunday afternoon?

"Is that Mark?" The voice was female, mid-twenties I guessed, but all business.

"It is." I kept up the business-like nature of the call. "How can I help you?"

"You're in my league at the tennis club. Would you like to play this week? I'm Christine, by the way."

Under my breath I cursed my buddy Chad for getting me involved in the league. Not only was it his goofy idea, but at the last minute he pulled out and left me to deal with all the whackos who called trying to arrange pointless, or so I felt, tennis matches.

I tried quickly to think of a reason not to play Christine, but in the end I lamely accepted. We agreed on a Thursday evening match and I put the phone down cursing.

Of course, the obvious thoughts of Christine being a delicious creature who would be insanely tempted by my limited charms ran through my head, ...

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