George was my first

George was my very first and I cannot help but think about him sometimes. He was much older than me, but it didn't matter. There was a certain charm about him despite the obvious dents the years had presented him. He taught me all I needed to know, when to go slow, when to pick up pace. He was quiet mostly. He never complained, not when I accidently lost him or even when I made him purple all over in the belated spirit of Hippie love. We weren't together long. It was my fault - I passed him up for a younger model. All these years later though, I still miss that little runaround.