Chick-magnet

Killian, my four-legged chick-magnet. (iPhone photo by BobbaLew.)

—“How come you always wanna get an Irish-Setter?” My niece’s boyfriend asked. “Maybe you should get a smaller, less active dog.”
“Because Irish-Setters are chick-magnets,” I said.
“You wanna real chick-magnet?” he exclaimed. “How about one of those new mid-engine Corvettes?”
“Why should I shell out 80,000-100,000 smackaroos for something that attracts chicks I wouldn’t touch with a 10 foot pole?”
“Vroom-vroom!” he said.
I thought about it later.
—A) I am a retired bus-driver. I drive my car like I used to drive bus.
I don’t just charge into an intersection when the light changes. My following-distances are far greater than needed.
My situational-awareness degraded with age, but I still concentrate very hard. I can’t have the radio on.
My driving is not Corvette level, or Porsche, or Lamborghini.
—B) I don’t think the chickees a ‘Vette would attract would be as immensely interesting as those my four-legged chick-magnet attracted.
I lost that chick-magnet to cancer six months ago. He’d drag me into meeting some gorgeous chickee, then slam into her and start nuzzling.
“Oh what a pretty dog. Can I pet ‘im?”
Here I am, yet again, talking to another gorgeous chickee!
I don’t think the ‘Vette chickees would smile like those my dog attracted. I’d get the Cheshire-Cat smile.
The ladies my dog attracted actually loved my dog. They weren’t attracted by what a megabuck Corvette might symbolize = a gigantic bank-balance.
I’d walk my dog out Canandaigua’s City-Pier, and there would be old gray-head sunning himself in his red C-5 Corvette, the “shampoo-bottle,” a car-guy friend of mine calls ‘em.
Too much fiberglass, all voluptuous curves. Similar to the busty slatterns SuckerBird wants me to “friend.”
I’d say hello to him — he works out at Canandaigua’s YMCA like me.
Then I’d continue out the pier, stopping for numerous chickees wanting to pet my dog.
Do they stop for gray-head?
I could purchase the new mid engine ‘Vette, but I don’t wanna. I prefer the chickees my dog attracted over the opportunists a megabuck Corvette might attract.

Killian with his ducky. (iPhone photo by BobbaLew.)

• For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS) in Rochester, NY, a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs. My heart-defect caused stroke October 26th, 1993 ended that. I retired on medical-disability, and that defect was repaired. I recovered well enough to return to work at a newspaper; I retired from that over 15 years ago.
• “SuckerBird” is Mark Zuckerberg, founder and head-honcho of Facebook.