“Happy to see ya!”

—“Boy am I glad you’re here,” I said to pretty *****, head-honcho of my in-store pharmacy at my supermarket in nearby Honeoye Falls.
“When I don’t see you I worry,” I added.
Perish-the-thought I think telling her that put her more at ease than the perfunctory “hello, how are you? Have a nice day!”
We could talk, she smiling and looking right at me = eye-contact with her pretty blue eyes.
“My annual train-calendar is on order. Your little boy will get one, but you have to be here so I can give it to you.”
“I’ll be here,” she smiled, eyes twinkling.
***** is not gorgeous, but she’s pretty enough to be among the women of whom I previously was scared.
“No pretty female will associate with you!”
That’s my hyper-religious Sunday-School superintendent neighbor, who together with my parents, also hyper-religious, convinced me at age-five I was disgusting.
A few days later at my Canandaigua supermarket: “if I’d known you were up here, I’da used this self-checkout instead of a checkout lane.”
Yet another of the many lady friends I cultivated since my wife died.
She’s not cute, but I recognize her, and she recognizes me. We talk and laugh and enjoy each other’s company.
Another lady-friend walked in, and saw me talking with that supermarket lady.
That friend is one who tells me thinking my lady friends enjoy my company is dreamin’.
To which I say, they’re not walking away. Usually it’s me that ends conversations: “We could talk forever, and it sure would be fun; but I gotta buy groceries!”
Our eyes met, and off-we-went!
I’m sure that lady is married, but so what? We talk and laugh and smile at each other. I’m not on-the-hunt.
“Happy to see ya!” I said to my pretty lifeguard friend at Canandaigua’s YMCA swimming-pool the other day.
“Happy to see you too,” she said.
And again, I think that put her more at ease than she usually is.
We began talking: “so I see a pretty lady running in front of me on Sand Road. I’m supposed to stop, hoping you won’t blow me in to the Ontario County Sheriff.”
“I've never seen anyone else running Sand Road, so it’ll be me. And I’ll know it’s you,” she said laughing.
That lifeguard and I go back at least 2-3 years. I always felt her attractive, especially for her age, which is now 64 years old.
Like what in Hell’s name am I doing talking to her after the childhood I had? Especially after all the flubs I made trying to get used to talking to a lady who attracts me?
Most extraordinary is the encounter I had maybe 2-3 weeks ago with a pretty jogger on Lehigh Valley RailTrail.
“Here she comes!
Now do it! Strike up a conversation, even with a pretty girl. You’ve done it before!”
“I used to do that myself,” I said as the girl approached.
She stopped and extracted her earplugs.
“Running?” she asked. And off-we-went! Yada-yada-yada-yada-yada.
She smiling and her eyes twinkling.
We talked and talked and talked some more. I thought she might wanna continue running.
But no, she wanted to talk.
After maybe 10 minutes I said: “I am so glad I said something! Striking up a conversation always works!”
“I’m glad ya did too,” she smiled. “You are perfect!”
A pretty girl is saying that to a lifelong scumbag? Absolutely mind-boggling!
Then, when we met a second time, it was her saying hello to me; again amazing.
“I am so glad I struck up a conversation with you!” I said as she jogged past.
“Me too!” she exclaimed.
“I hope we meet again sometime,” she said.
Again AMAZING!
And I’ll probably never see her again during what little time remaining I have on this planet.
What do I say to her if we do meet again? I don’t wanna ruin things = the extraordinary vibes we had.
“Happy to see ya! Thrilled to see ya!”
Then, “talk to me! Anything!”

• “Eye-contact” is what makes eyes pretty. It means whoever you’re talking to thinks you’re worth listening to.
• My brother and I photograph trains down near Altoona PA, where the old Pennsylvania Railroad crossed Allegheny Mountain. The railroad is now Norfolk Southern. Every year I take 13 of our 89 bazilyun photographs to assemble into a calendar — I do it with Shutterfly. I give those calendars as Christmas presents.
• I do aquatic balance training in the Canandaigua YMCA’s swimming-pool, currently one class per week — almost an hour — less than usual due to COVID-19.