Sigmund Stahl never gets tired of telling the nearly unbelievable-if-it-weren't-true story of how he met his wife, Bonnie, in the 1970s. A colleague at work decided he was going to fix Stahl up. He agreed to have a drink and if he didn't like her, he'd say, "'I have to go home,' and that'll be the end of it." "So we met and we sat down and we talked and I said to her, 'What would you like to do now if you could -- anything you want.' And she said, 'Well, I'd go to an island in the Pacific somewhere where it's nice and sunny.'" "I said, 'That we can't do. That's a little difficult.'" So Bonnie offered an alternative -- seeing a movie. "That's reasonable," Stahl replied. "Did you hear of a movie called Deep Throat?" Bonnie asked. Bonnie, a public-relations executive, seemed like a respectable woman -- and besides, there was a line around the block at the theater. Stahl was in for a shock.

Sigmund Stahl never gets tired of telling the nearly unbelievable-if-it-weren't-true story of how he met his wife, Bonnie, in the 1970s. A colleague at work decided he was going to fix Stahl up. He agreed to have a drink and if he didn't like her, he'd say, "'I have to go home,' and that'll be the end of it." "So we met and we sat down and we talked and I said to her, 'What would you like to do now if you could -- anything you want.' And she said, 'Well, I'd go to an island in the Pacific somewhere where it's nice and sunny.'" "I said, 'That we can't do. That's a little difficult.'" So Bonnie offered an alternative -- seeing a movie. "That's reasonable," Stahl replied. "Did you hear of a movie called Deep Throat?" Bonnie asked. Bonnie, a public-relations executive, seemed like a respectable woman -- and besides, there was a line around the block at the theater. Stahl was in for a shock.