Support the MUSEUM of LOVESTORIES
As a rebellious teenager, me and my girls used to spend our Friday nights out in a pub called “Tequila Rock” – and hell yeah there was a lot of tequila going down our throats.
One night there was this guy showing up on the doorstep and I was like “Oh my god what a clown is that?” His hair was cut on both sides of his head leaving only a strip of hair over the top of his head. His nose and lips were pierced and there was a tattoo decorating his left arm. Obviously, he was one of these wannabe-punk-guys who wanted to stand out. I went home that night not thinking about this encounter anymore. However, this guy showed up the following week again and I somehow felt attracted to him. I simply couldn’t get him off my mind although he wasn’t my type of men at all.
What I learned the following weeks was that you should never judge a book by its cover, because this freaky punk-rock-guy from back then finally became my handsome looking husband. Together with our two little sons we formed the perfect family and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.