“I don’t know you from the moon!”

—Yrs Trly was waiting in Thompson Hospital’s Physical-Therapy reception-area for my friend **** to get off her phone to check me in.
**** and I are friends because if I say hello to her she smiles at me.
So I better say hello to her. If I didn’t she’d be hurt.
I didn’t say much to the temperature ladies out in the lobby, one of whom is exceptionally pretty.
A few weeks ago I said something to her, and it made her nervous.
She’s gotten friendlier since, but I ain’t makin’ her nervous. Any talking we do will be her move.
So here I am waiting for ****, and a pretty lady walks past, our eyes meet, and she says hello to me.
She looked maybe 65 or so, stridently silver hair, but eyes twinkling above her mask.
“Do I know you?” I asked. My guess is she thought I was someone she knew.
Things are different since my wife died. Years ago I woulda avoided that lady, but no longer.
We began talking. “I don't know you from the Moon,” then she wished me a merry Christmas.
30 seconds of joyous bliss. Don’t avoid people. Strike up a conversation. Do it! It always works.
I began my appointment. It’s not actually physical therapy, but it’s in the Physical-Therapy department — use of their exercise machines.
Suddenly, there she is again. She’s walking toward the exit.
“Wait a minute!” I shouted; “you can’t just walk out of here without saying hello again!”
Our eyes met again, and hers sparkled again.
“You’re smiling at me,” I said; “mask or not I can tell. Your eyes give you away.”
Call that a FLIRT if you want. Per my childhood any contact, even verbal, between a male and a female is EVIL = disgusting.
But it sure is fun.
Me and that lady — a complete stranger — were striking sparks.
My lifelong fear of women is flip-flopped.