I've been thinking about Haley a great deal these last couple of days. Haley, just Haley. There are only two thing I remember about her: she was six foot four and she was named Haley because she was born in 1986 when Haley's Comet came around. Of course, in 1986, I was a teenager and living in the cold war suburbs of Denver. My friend David Reid and I spent our weekends awake all night star gazing, and I remember Haley's Comet very well. Perhaps that is a story for another time.
I met Haley when she came into Marlowe's, the restaurant where I worked at the time. She had never been a server before, and although it was not required to get the job, there just aren't many people who walk into a restaurant without experience and get a serving job. I was taken with her immediately. She was 22 years old at the time, and she had just graduated from college, Hawaii, I think, with a degree in Marine Biology. Marlowe's in Denver seemed like a very far distance from marine biology save for the fish we cooked and served nightly.