Kids, this is the story

Of How I Met My Wife.

One day, on 2008, I was sitting on my mom's desk in Nantes, freezing my ass off, melting my brain, and watching old movies and anime series, pretty cool huh?
Nope. It wasn't cool.

I was BORED TO DEATH.

I woke up, exercised, and then stayed on the computer 'till 4 a.m. to do a fresh start the next day. You may wonder why, if I was on the land of the cheese and the home of baguette, why didn't I just fly away to the wonders that Nantes had for me at that time?
One simple reason. I was poor as hell. The most exiting sightseeing I got to do was walking through the streets on my way to work. Yes, that's right, I was working as a housekeeper for one of my mom's friends, who was also chilean and may I say, VERY VERY MESSY.
Dust and rests of food where to be found even behind the couch, under the bed. Windows had a thick layer of mold and old spider webs. I'm telling you: it was pretty bad, the tartar accumulated on the shower floor was so thick I had to use a knife to scratch it off.
In the nights my boss' daughter took me out to some local pubs, but the law banned all smokers to the outside areas, so there I stood: single, cold, smoking a cigarette that took me ages to put together (I wasn't going to buy a pack of ciggies being so expensive and all). And back then, feeling a weird mixture of sad, lonely, and horney (hence, the morning exercise ritually practiced).

You might think that it was the worst vacation ever, but there was one miracle that turned into something awesome, a marvelous invention that we all know as the Internet.
You see, months before one of my best friends convinced me to join this ridiculous (at the time) website called (yes, I'm going to translate it to make it even more corny) Shadows. Even the name itself was calling for pheromone-loaded tragedy.
However, there I got to meet the two funniest girls, one was tiny and smart, the other was tall and simply hilarious. They showed me how to party on the Gay Zone of Santiago, and also they teached me the fine art of drawing oneself a mustache while being drunk thanks to vodka, and also how to dance ballet -let's call that dancing ballet since I can find no other expression- in the streets at 3 in the morning.

I also got to meet two or three girls more. They gave me planty aches, both from the head and from the heart. But that I'll tell you later.

Spoiler alert: I get to keep one of the girls that I met on that stupid pheromone-loaded website.