Imaginary girlfriends
—“Oh yeah, Jeep,” said an attractive young coworker long ago at the Mighty Mezz. “First made by American Motors.”
“It was not!” I screamed. “It was first made by Willys!”
As a life-long car-guy I know this stuff.
I since discovered even that was wrong. Jeep was first manufactured by Willys, but it was developed by Ford as a small four-wheel-drive scout-vehicle for the Army. It had to be drivable off-road.
The girl wasn’t beautiful, but was extremely cute. She also was an easy smiler — I’m always a sucker for easy smilers.
Normally a girl takes offense at my pontificatin’. Not this girl; she thought my blustering was “cute.”
Even though I was old enough to be her father. I was late 50s back then, she in her middle 20s.
Plus she was living with her boyfriend, who she eventually married and had kids with. My guess is he was also “cute.” That is, prone to just blurt out things that offended others.
I been told my girlfriends are imaginary.
I don’t know, but I folded my wings somewhat. I feel like my childhood was flip-flopped. “NO PRETTY LADY WILL TALK TO/SMILE AT/BE INTERESTED IN YOU!” That was my Sunday-School Superintendent neighbor when I was a child. She convinced me all males, including me at age-5, were SCUM.
Had my parents come to my defense, that neighbor woulda crashed in flames. But they heartily agreed, since I couldn’t worship my holier-than-thou father. I was therefore rebellious, and disgusting.
My beloved wife died over seven years ago, and I’ve since gained many lady-friends. Make ‘em laugh! Get the endorphins flowing! And thereby attract lady-friends galore.
At 75 years old with wonky balance, and somewhat overweight, I sure ain’t Adonis. But “You’re funny,” one tells me smiling.
Some of my lady-friends are shutting down, perhaps because I no longer am so smitten.
My earlier “falling for” ‘em is my childhood. Complete surprise a pretty lady would even talk to me.
I gained so many lady-friends I no longer am scared of pretty girls. If anything it seems the pretty ones prefer someone not on-the-make.
Last Thanksgiving a cousin, who since died of a stroke, asked if I had “any sweeties.” He knew I was a widower.
“What do I need a sweetie for?” I cried. “I already had one 44&1/2 years.”
I enjoy my so-called “girlfriends.” I’m fairly sure my Jeep-contact was while I was still a post-stroke unpaid intern. That newspaper later hired me, and that coworker drove me home one night in a blizzard. She had her boyfriend’s gigantic Ford Bronco.
She wanted to be sure I got home in one piece. I was a stroke rehaber who also happened to be “cute.”
I saw that girl not too long ago at a youth soccer-game. Her third son was playing soccer. That was shortly after my wife died, and things are different since. I’m more inclined to “flirt,” which to me is just talk. And ladies love talking.
I’d get her laughing too. A pretty girl once told me women love laughing. “It was pleasant meeting you,” I told pretty-girl as I left. Ten years ago I couldna done that.
I suppose I read more into these “girlfriends” than actually is the case. “You think too much,” a lady-friend tells me.
But they keep coming at me to strike up a conversation. Make ‘em smile, etc. Sometimes it’s me that strikes up a conversation; but often it’s them.
And much to the angry chagrin of my parents and that Sunday-School Superintendent neighbor, they never walk away.
• The “Mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired 14 years ago. BEST job I ever had. I was employed there almost 10 years — over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern. (“Canandaigua” is a small city near where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 14 miles away.)
• I had a stroke October 26th, 1993 from an undiagnosed heart-defect since repaired. I pretty much recovered. Just tiny detriments; I can pass for never having had a stroke.
• My Sunday-School Superintendent neighbor was the infamous Hilda Q. Walton. Constant-readers know all about her. Otherwise, click the link. (And it’s way more than “14 blogs.”)
“It was not!” I screamed. “It was first made by Willys!”
As a life-long car-guy I know this stuff.
I since discovered even that was wrong. Jeep was first manufactured by Willys, but it was developed by Ford as a small four-wheel-drive scout-vehicle for the Army. It had to be drivable off-road.
The girl wasn’t beautiful, but was extremely cute. She also was an easy smiler — I’m always a sucker for easy smilers.
Normally a girl takes offense at my pontificatin’. Not this girl; she thought my blustering was “cute.”
Even though I was old enough to be her father. I was late 50s back then, she in her middle 20s.
Plus she was living with her boyfriend, who she eventually married and had kids with. My guess is he was also “cute.” That is, prone to just blurt out things that offended others.
I been told my girlfriends are imaginary.
I don’t know, but I folded my wings somewhat. I feel like my childhood was flip-flopped. “NO PRETTY LADY WILL TALK TO/SMILE AT/BE INTERESTED IN YOU!” That was my Sunday-School Superintendent neighbor when I was a child. She convinced me all males, including me at age-5, were SCUM.
Had my parents come to my defense, that neighbor woulda crashed in flames. But they heartily agreed, since I couldn’t worship my holier-than-thou father. I was therefore rebellious, and disgusting.
My beloved wife died over seven years ago, and I’ve since gained many lady-friends. Make ‘em laugh! Get the endorphins flowing! And thereby attract lady-friends galore.
At 75 years old with wonky balance, and somewhat overweight, I sure ain’t Adonis. But “You’re funny,” one tells me smiling.
Some of my lady-friends are shutting down, perhaps because I no longer am so smitten.
My earlier “falling for” ‘em is my childhood. Complete surprise a pretty lady would even talk to me.
I gained so many lady-friends I no longer am scared of pretty girls. If anything it seems the pretty ones prefer someone not on-the-make.
Last Thanksgiving a cousin, who since died of a stroke, asked if I had “any sweeties.” He knew I was a widower.
“What do I need a sweetie for?” I cried. “I already had one 44&1/2 years.”
I enjoy my so-called “girlfriends.” I’m fairly sure my Jeep-contact was while I was still a post-stroke unpaid intern. That newspaper later hired me, and that coworker drove me home one night in a blizzard. She had her boyfriend’s gigantic Ford Bronco.
She wanted to be sure I got home in one piece. I was a stroke rehaber who also happened to be “cute.”
I saw that girl not too long ago at a youth soccer-game. Her third son was playing soccer. That was shortly after my wife died, and things are different since. I’m more inclined to “flirt,” which to me is just talk. And ladies love talking.
I’d get her laughing too. A pretty girl once told me women love laughing. “It was pleasant meeting you,” I told pretty-girl as I left. Ten years ago I couldna done that.
I suppose I read more into these “girlfriends” than actually is the case. “You think too much,” a lady-friend tells me.
But they keep coming at me to strike up a conversation. Make ‘em smile, etc. Sometimes it’s me that strikes up a conversation; but often it’s them.
And much to the angry chagrin of my parents and that Sunday-School Superintendent neighbor, they never walk away.
• The “Mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired 14 years ago. BEST job I ever had. I was employed there almost 10 years — over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern. (“Canandaigua” is a small city near where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 14 miles away.)
• I had a stroke October 26th, 1993 from an undiagnosed heart-defect since repaired. I pretty much recovered. Just tiny detriments; I can pass for never having had a stroke.
• My Sunday-School Superintendent neighbor was the infamous Hilda Q. Walton. Constant-readers know all about her. Otherwise, click the link. (And it’s way more than “14 blogs.”)
posted by BobbaLew at 3:19 PM
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