Bright eyes
—“I don't know you from the Moon,” I said to a pretty lady smiling at me from inside the George Ewing memorial conference-room near Thompson Hospital’s Physical-Therapy department.
“But I recognize you, and you’re smiling at me. I can tell!” I said. “Your eyes give you away.”
We were all wearing masks. I saw that lady last week in the same location.
I had a physical-therapy appointment the other day, and after clearing Security — masks, temperature check, “the speech” (COVID-19 questions): “Can I use the little boys room?”
To do so I have to walk a long hallway which passes the George Ewing memorial conference-room. George Ewing, Sr. was head honcho of the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper when they hired me.
I guess he donated a lot of money to Thompson Hospital. Next-door is a continuing care-center (nursing home) named after his wife.
Both died years ago; his wife first.
A lot has changed since my wife died. When I passed that conference room last week, and that lady waved at me from inside, 10 years ago I woulda kept going.
Instead, I stopped, wheeled around, and went back to the door that looked into the conference room. “Do I know you?”
So now, when I pass that conference room, I always look inside to see if I see that lady again.
Back-and-forth before my appointment, then back-and-forth after. Nothing each time, except passing the last time.
There she was again, sitting in the same chair, waving at me from behind her mask. “It IS you, isn’t it?” I said. “I don’t know you from the Moon, but I recognize you — and you’re smiling at me!”
Call that a flirt if you wish. 10 years ago I wouldna done it. But a lot has changed.
It’s so easy, and so much fun. The ladies love it. They attracted me. That makes a lady feel great. So much better than the attention of some lecherous geezer.
What’s notable is 10 years ago it wouldna happened. I’da walked right past that doorway without looking inside. If she had waved at me, I’d pretend I didn’t notice.
And here I am looking inside that conference room for that lady, hoping our eyes will meet again, and we will smile at each other.
And WOW! There she was! Our eyes met, and we smiled at each other. Mask or not — the eyes always tell!
Gigantic reversal of my childhood (“NO PRETTY LADY WILL SMILE AT YOU!”) began at Thompson Physical-Therapy years ago after my left knee was replaced.
“Cutie Pie,” young and cute, was my therapist.
I got so I could talk to her — I no longer was intimidated.
Also about that time I befriended an outgoing lady at my Goodwill donation center. She was probably in her middle 40s.
Baby steps = my first steps.
Then a lifeguard at the Canandaigua YMCA’s swimming pool said hello to me by name. She was statuesque — in her early 60s, but didn’t look it.
“NO PRETTY LADY WILL TALK TO YOU!”
Then my aquatic balance-training instructor at that YMCA swimming pool, also a cutie, wanted to meet my new dog.
I never had anything like that happen in my entire life (76 years old). Per my parents and the infamous Hilda Q. Walton I was SCUM! (“Rebellious” to my parents, but they agreed with Hilda.)
And so my turnaround began. I blew that aquacise-instructor all outta proportion. She probably was no more interested in me than she’d be with any of her male clients, but “NO PRETTY LADY WILL BE INTERESTED IN YOU!”
I began meeting other pretty ladies.
Walking my dog at a Canandaigua city park I got dragged onto a dock were a tour-boat ties up. A pretty young girl was out there taking a breather from jogging.
“Oh what a pretty dog,” she exclaimed. Surprise-surprise! “If I knew you were out here I woulda gone the other way,” I said.
Then to myself: “Here I am talking to a pretty girl.”
My silly dog, a chick-magnet, was dragging me into talking to pretty girls.
I remember talking to a pretty blond. 10 years ago I couldna done that.
Last August a gorgeous stunner at a party came over to talk to me. Our eyes met; I got so I could do that.
Yada-yada-yada-yada, then “it sure was pleasant meeting you.” She loved it — a gorgeous lady. I cried afterwards (UNBELIEVABLE!).
Get the endorphins flowing = make ‘em smile or laugh.
That pretty girl last August told me what women love most is laughing.
And I’m doing it. It’s so much fun I can’t resist. I pass that conference room looking for another smile.
• I do dry-land balance-training in a hospital Physical-Therapy department. I also do aquatic balance-training in the Canandaigua YMCA’s swimming pool.
• The Canandaigua Daily-Messenger is the newspaper from where I retired over 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. (I had a heart-defect caused stroke October 26th, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well. That defect was repaired.)
• 3-4 years ago I had my left knee replaced.
“But I recognize you, and you’re smiling at me. I can tell!” I said. “Your eyes give you away.”
We were all wearing masks. I saw that lady last week in the same location.
I had a physical-therapy appointment the other day, and after clearing Security — masks, temperature check, “the speech” (COVID-19 questions): “Can I use the little boys room?”
To do so I have to walk a long hallway which passes the George Ewing memorial conference-room. George Ewing, Sr. was head honcho of the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper when they hired me.
I guess he donated a lot of money to Thompson Hospital. Next-door is a continuing care-center (nursing home) named after his wife.
Both died years ago; his wife first.
A lot has changed since my wife died. When I passed that conference room last week, and that lady waved at me from inside, 10 years ago I woulda kept going.
Instead, I stopped, wheeled around, and went back to the door that looked into the conference room. “Do I know you?”
So now, when I pass that conference room, I always look inside to see if I see that lady again.
Back-and-forth before my appointment, then back-and-forth after. Nothing each time, except passing the last time.
There she was again, sitting in the same chair, waving at me from behind her mask. “It IS you, isn’t it?” I said. “I don’t know you from the Moon, but I recognize you — and you’re smiling at me!”
Call that a flirt if you wish. 10 years ago I wouldna done it. But a lot has changed.
It’s so easy, and so much fun. The ladies love it. They attracted me. That makes a lady feel great. So much better than the attention of some lecherous geezer.
What’s notable is 10 years ago it wouldna happened. I’da walked right past that doorway without looking inside. If she had waved at me, I’d pretend I didn’t notice.
And here I am looking inside that conference room for that lady, hoping our eyes will meet again, and we will smile at each other.
And WOW! There she was! Our eyes met, and we smiled at each other. Mask or not — the eyes always tell!
Gigantic reversal of my childhood (“NO PRETTY LADY WILL SMILE AT YOU!”) began at Thompson Physical-Therapy years ago after my left knee was replaced.
“Cutie Pie,” young and cute, was my therapist.
I got so I could talk to her — I no longer was intimidated.
Also about that time I befriended an outgoing lady at my Goodwill donation center. She was probably in her middle 40s.
Baby steps = my first steps.
Then a lifeguard at the Canandaigua YMCA’s swimming pool said hello to me by name. She was statuesque — in her early 60s, but didn’t look it.
“NO PRETTY LADY WILL TALK TO YOU!”
Then my aquatic balance-training instructor at that YMCA swimming pool, also a cutie, wanted to meet my new dog.
I never had anything like that happen in my entire life (76 years old). Per my parents and the infamous Hilda Q. Walton I was SCUM! (“Rebellious” to my parents, but they agreed with Hilda.)
And so my turnaround began. I blew that aquacise-instructor all outta proportion. She probably was no more interested in me than she’d be with any of her male clients, but “NO PRETTY LADY WILL BE INTERESTED IN YOU!”
I began meeting other pretty ladies.
Walking my dog at a Canandaigua city park I got dragged onto a dock were a tour-boat ties up. A pretty young girl was out there taking a breather from jogging.
“Oh what a pretty dog,” she exclaimed. Surprise-surprise! “If I knew you were out here I woulda gone the other way,” I said.
Then to myself: “Here I am talking to a pretty girl.”
My silly dog, a chick-magnet, was dragging me into talking to pretty girls.
I remember talking to a pretty blond. 10 years ago I couldna done that.
Last August a gorgeous stunner at a party came over to talk to me. Our eyes met; I got so I could do that.
Yada-yada-yada-yada, then “it sure was pleasant meeting you.” She loved it — a gorgeous lady. I cried afterwards (UNBELIEVABLE!).
Get the endorphins flowing = make ‘em smile or laugh.
That pretty girl last August told me what women love most is laughing.
And I’m doing it. It’s so much fun I can’t resist. I pass that conference room looking for another smile.
• I do dry-land balance-training in a hospital Physical-Therapy department. I also do aquatic balance-training in the Canandaigua YMCA’s swimming pool.
• The Canandaigua Daily-Messenger is the newspaper from where I retired over 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. (I had a heart-defect caused stroke October 26th, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well. That defect was repaired.)
• 3-4 years ago I had my left knee replaced.
Labels: Relations with the opposite sex
posted by BobbaLew at 8:36 AM
1 Comments:
Interesting blog -- did you write it this morning before your encounter with the ice cream lady? It was interesting seeing your "silly dog" and my more serious dog check each other out, then off they went exploring your property. My dog is exhausted tonight -- stressful day, first a visit to the vet, then meeting a new dog on his turf!
So now I have had a new kind of ice cream -- was it a shiver? Can't remember, anyway it was good, but expensive.
Janet
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