Sally

Ted always dated women named Sally.
“I got ‘Sally’ tattooed on my arm when I was in the Navy,” he told me. “It was easier dating just women named Sally than to get it removed.”
He’d gotten married recently.
“Congratulations, I said. “Finally found the right Sally?”
“Hell no,” he said. “But you know how people convert religions to get married?”
She changed her name to Sally?
Well. Almost. “Her middle name was Sally,” said Ted, “but you know how love is?”
I sure do.
I rubbed the spot where the Ted tattoo had been and tried not to cry.