Another New Fortune Cookie

You will fall in love with a girl who calls you Larry only because it irritates you (although she will insist it is because you remind her of a pet hamster she had as a child who bore the same name and, she claims, committed suicide by repeatedly running headlong into a her closed bedroom door.) You will, of course, lover her not in spite of her faults but because of them, and your relationship will become not so much a mutual partnership between two adults invested in complementary value systems, but rather a sustained exploration into the process through which nuisance inevitably transforms into boredom. Saddest of all will not be your frustration with her habit of reprogramming your car's radio presets to stations that won't come in no matter where you drive (and you will at some point drive from town to town in a desperate attempt to decipher them), your contempt for the way she routinely changes her voice to match the accents of new acquaintances, or your rage at her constant lies about the hamster you both know she killed. What will really hurt is the slow dull way these things pass into routines that you one day realize you no longer hate.