Wish me luck

—“Boy did you hit the nail on the head!” I would say to *****, my lifeguard friend at Canandaigua’s YMCA swimming-pool.
“How so?” ***** might ask.
“When you said striking up a conversation wasn’t flirting: when you said striking up a conversation wasn’t evil — “flirting” — unless there was evil intent behind it.
Right smack on the nose, *****! Precisely; exactly!
I been on-my-own over eight years; and have no desire to remarry. Someone might come along who changes my mind, but I doubt it.
I do my own laundry, cooking, banking, etc.; I don’t need a char-woman.
I’d be a pain-in-the-neck; I’m better off by myself.”
So yes, all I’m doing is striking up a conversation. There’s no evil intent.
But I can’t get away from thinking striking up a conversation is EVIL.
Every time I strike up a conversation with a female, it gets perceived as I find her attractive.
That girl likes the fact I considered her attractive enough to strike up a conversation = I didn’t avoid her.
The fun begins: she likes the fact I found her attractive, then I like the fact she likes that, then she likes that even more, me even more; and on-and-on it goes. It becomes a love-fest. We enjoy each other’s company so much, we are, as it were, striking sparks.
Striking up a conversation becomes so much fun, and so pleasant, and almost always successful, I end up doing it way too much.
This flies in the face of my upbringing = if it’s fun it’s sin!
“Well get over it!” ***** would say.
“Easier said than done,” I say. “I been living with that “if it’s fun it’s sin” albatross over 70 years = the lifelong scumbag, evil incarnate.
“All males, including you, Bobby, at age 5, are DISGUSTING!”
That was my hyper-religious neighbor Sunday-School superintendent, the infamous Hilda Q. Walton.
Had my Bible-beating parents come to my defense, Faire Hilda woulda crashed mightily in flames.
They heartily agreed; I was rebellious and disgusting because I couldn’t worship my holier-than-thou father.
***** isn’t stunning; but she is attractive, especially for age 64 — on her lifeguard stand she looks like she’s in her 40s.
I thought her attractive ever since I began aquatic balance training in that YMCA swimming pool three years ago.
She said hello to me by name, which for someone with my childhood was amazing.
Had it not been for super-cute *****, at Thompson Physical-Therapy after my years-ago knee-change, I doubt I coulda responded to *****’s saying hello.
And now, despite my many flubs and foul-ups, including a real zinger, *****, perhaps, is becoming someone I can talk to.
***** is married, but so are two of the other ladies I can talk to.
Both are far away: one in Philadelphia, one in NC.
So any discussion with them would be one-sided = text or FB “message.”
***** would be face-to-face, which works a lot better.
That’s if we can do it.
Wish me luck, readers!

• My beloved wife died of cancer over eight years ago. She was probably the best one I ever had to talk to = I was very lucky.