Gertrude Franz. With a name like Gertrude Franz she had spent most of her life believing she would never find love and the entire blame would lie with her name. Gertrude. Gert. Wow. So, While she had dated frequently and even gotten serious once or twice (once), she went ahead and got a cat, a male suffering terribly from lunacy. At the slightest sound of anyone even near the front door, Issues (yes, this is the cat's name) would bound through the entire house via the elevated cat train system called "the curtains". The cant was large, grey, and perpetually miserable. They were complete opposites and they were perfect for each other. Issues was Gert's husband, and that was good enough for her.
Gert was perky, with a personality that drew attention like a magnet and laughter the way a canyon drew an echo. She made a friend of everyone she met. People were one of her favorite things. Her taste in clothing, bright and flamboyant, not only drew positive attention but fit her perfectly, all 5 foot, 104 pounds of her. Best of all, she had a shoe and hat collection most women would willingly go to prison for. That, my friends, is not to mention her bags. She had friends, she had a great job, she had hobbies, she had a life.
She didn't need a man...she didn't even want one.