Incredible derring-do

—A couple weeks ago I walked into the Canandaigua YMCA swimming-pool with three of my annual train-calendars.
Two were for my two lifeguard friends, and one was for my aquacise-instructor.
As soon as I walked in *****-the-lifeguard got my attention, and started toward me.
***** is the pretty one; she doesn’t look age-64 on her lifeguard stand.
She has me wondering why she talks to me, graduate that I am of the Hilda Q. Walton School of Gender Relations.
A while ago she said hello to my by name, making her one of the first, if not the first, female to get me past Hilda.
And I managed to get up enough nerve to say hello back. Incredible derring-do: the first step in reversing my dreadful childhood.
“NO PRETTY LADY WILL TALK TO YOU!” Yet there was *****.
She wanted to purchase an additional calendar. I apparently gave her one last year — I forgot — and one of her railfan friends wanted one.
“I don’t know what to charge,” I said. “I give ‘em as Christmas presents.”
My other lifeguard friend wasn’t there, so I gave ***** my third calendar.
“Maybe I can get you a gift-card,” she said. “Name a favorite restaurant.”
“Well okay,” I said. “Rio Tomatlan, a Mexican restaurant in Canandaigua. It’s always been my favorite.”
So now ***** would visit Rio Tomatlan to get me a $20 gift-card, about what I’d charge if I were selling my calendars.
And they’re in demand; many people want one.
“Don’t forget,” I told *****. “What I really enjoy is doing them. My brother-and-I chase trains, then I engage what artistic talent remains.”
I had a stroke, but “if my name is on it, it’s gonna look good.”
I didn’t do the pool for a couple weeks because of sniffles, but last Tuesday I returned.
Here came ***** as soon as I entered. “I have something for you,” she said. “Don’t leave without it.”
Balance-class ended, I started leaving. ***** gave me a small envelope. It contained the gift-card and a small note.
“Now,” I told her; “this is entirely off-the-wall, but the one I would most like to use this with is you.”
I have others in mind, but they’re not you.”
Incredible moxie for a graduate of the Hilda Q. Walton School of Gender Relations.
***** and I are worlds apart, but we seem to be great friends. We shoot the breeze, and laugh a lot. How we got there I’ll never know.
“I know my telling you that is crazy, but it’s the only way I know to clue you in.”
Now I’ll see if ***** and I remain friends. I bet we do.
The fact ***** went to the trouble to get that gift-card, plus write that note, wasn’t much. But to one with my history it’s amazing.

• I do aquatic balance training in the Canandaigua YMCA’s swimming-pool, two hours per week — plus a third hour on my own.
• 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.