Make ‘em laugh — ∞

(“∞” because who knows how many “Make ‘em laughs” there will be.)

—“I just can’t leave this pool without making someone laugh.”
I said that to ***** a lifeguard at Canandaigua’s YMCA swimming-pool.
“And you’re it!” I said.
I then told her about my visit to Canandaigua’s Eye-Care Center.
“We’re gonna put these drops in your eyes to dilate your pupils,” I was told.
“I was a pupil in first grade,” I countered.
***** laughed. I love to see her laugh.
For age-64 ***** is striking. She looks 40-ish on her lifeguard stand.
Things are much different since my wife died. “NO PRETTY LADY WILL TALK TO YOU!” That’s the infamous Hilda Q. Walton, my holier-than-though Sunday-School Superintendent neighbor, who convinced me all males, including me at age-5, were SCUM.
My parents, already mad I couldn’t worship my hyper-religious father, heartily agreed.
Yet ***** said hello to me months ago. She was probably just being sociable, but I was smitten. Never before had anything like that happened; I previously felt unworthy.
“Congratulations Mr. Hughes. You have 20-20 vision; pretty good for age-75.”
“I didn’t see any numbers,” I snapped.
Again ***** laughed.
“And don’t be surprised if your mother repeats that same joke.” *****’s mother is in my aquatic balance-training class. I asked her to relay my visit to Eye-Care in case I missed *****. *****’s parents live with her.
As preparation for an MRI at Canandaigua’s hospital, I had to do a blood-draw at that same hospital.
“How are you?” a young pretty girl asked.
“No comment,” I said to her after a few seconds.
“Bad day,” I added.
A downer of course. “Maybe tomorrow will be better,” she smiled.
She said she was a Phlebotomy trainee from a local college, and would do my blood-draw with supervision.
“I hope you’re not draining a gallon outta me,” I said.
“Only one vial,” she said.
“Last time I did a blood-draw they had to transfuse me,” I said.
Blood-draw complete I started putting on my jacket. I noticed a small plastic bin labeled “Reusable sharps container.”
“So which is reusable?” I asked. “The sharps or the container?”
They all laughed, and they were pretty girls.
Make ‘em laugh; they eat it up.
A while ago another Transit retiree asked what my secret was, that I so easily attract lady-friends.
“Forget magic potions,” I’d say. “Just make ‘em laugh!”
A few months ago a really pretty young girl, who 10 years ago I woulda run scared from, told me what women love most is laughing.
It’s like since my wife died I found Faire Hilda and my parents were WRONG. Making ladies laugh is piling up. I no longer am scared of pretty girls. All I hafta do is be myself = make ‘em laugh.
“You’re funny!” another lady-friend tells me.
So now I’m a sucker for makin’ ‘em laugh. “I can’t leave this pool without makin’ somebody laugh.”
Pay-dirt!

• I do aquatic balance training in the Canandaigua YMCA’s swimming-pool, two hours per week — plus a third hour on my own.
• “MRI” (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) was being used to scan my brain, to see if that’s why I have bad balance. “No sign of a brain, Mr. Hughes.”
• “Transit” equals Regional Transit Service, the public transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY, where I drove bus for 16&1/2 years (1977-1993).