Napoleon and Josephine and Josephine

I met Josephine in a supremely American fashion: she bought stuff from me at a garage sale.

She happened to be jogging by our sale and stopped in just to look around. She bought a vintage silk dress and my grandmother’s red, white and blue Skyway luggage set. She told us that the set looked just like what her childhood Barbie doll had carried. We talked for two hours while standing in my neighbor’s driveway. She was just this cool girl who was in town to edit her documentary about bisexuality. I had her over for dinner and invited her to all our parties.

Do I have to mention that my guy friends could not get enough of her? Hmmm…I wonder why.

Then she moved to New York City.

Last year, when my computer crashed, I lost all her contact information.

Today I spent an entire afternoon google stalking her across the internet. I was inspired to find her because I unpacked a spare set of luggage keys and an extra organizer pocket for one of the suitcases and, as an OCD tweaker, God forbid I just throw those away. Josephine paid good money ($20) for that three-piece luggage set! Let’s just say that the words “Josephine” and “Bisexual” and “Documentary” bring up many more movie titles than you’d expect. Most of them involve Pompadour wigs and tag lines like “Watch Josephine Eat Napoleons! XXX!”

Why do so many roads in my life lead to porn?

I called her as she was leaving La Guardia and we talked all the way until she reached Union Station. Her documentary is done and she’s got a distribution deal with LOGO. She’s coming back to LA soon so we made plans to hang out.

She loves her luggage and was surprised that I’d tracked her down over spare suitcase parts.

Friendships can be forged out of the smallest moments in life. I love that.

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