Marriage, memory and mishapprehensions

This is late mostly because we ran errands this morning, and it was more convenient to run them before I sat down.

While I was in Portugal my dad was telling me tales of his youth, including that he used to be the letter writer for men who wanted to ask women to go out.

You see, in a highly segregated society, where “going out together” was a formal thing and only done after the man had met the woman’s parents and asked permission, the process as I understand it went something like this: the...