They come and they go

—“I see gray hairs,” I cooed to a pretty lady with whom I stopped to talk in a nearby town park.
That was years ago. Maybe 10 hairs were actually gray. Everything else was brunette, elegantly coifed. She was probably in her late 30s, but attractive.
We were walking our dogs, me in, and she out.
I was just being cute, but it went over extremely well. It meant I had looked at her, and thought her attractive. I had to stop us from talking; she wouldn’t leave.
A guy (me) had found her attractive, and in all the right ways. I wasn’t hittin’ on her!
This came to mind after meeting that pretty jogger the other day. I struck up a conversation with her, and that went over extremely well too.
Like the fact I struck up a conversation meant I found her attractive.
Yes, she was attractive; but I was forcing myself to talk to a pretty lady. I’ve only recently gotten so I can do it; also with men.
“No one will talk to you, especially pretty ladies.”
“Go to Hell, Bobby! Do you not pass Go, do not collect $200. Go DIRECTLY to Hell!”
A wonderful thing to tell a five-year-old little boy.
That gray hair encounter was so pleasant I revisited quite often the next few days.
I haven’t seen her since, and probably never will again.
That jogger and I were really striking sparks.
“I hope we meet again sometime,” she said.
Me? The lifelong scumbag?
“No pretty lady will enjoy your company!” And on second encounter it was her saying hello.
But I bet I never meet her again either.
Me and that jogger, plus that other lady, really enjoyed each other.
“Boy am I glad I said something to you!”
“I’m glad too,” my jogger friend said.
They come and they go.

• I been advised I’m dreamin’ to think these ladies actually enjoyed my company.