“Women are so forgiving”

—Yrs Trly came on a little too strong last week with *****, the pretty head-honcho of my in-store pharmacy in Honeoye-Falls.
She’d made a comment a few days earlier that seemed to badmouth her husband, which prompted me to be more forthcoming, although not much.
I could see I was making her uncomfortable, and I don’t want that.
***** and I are mainly friends, which I prefer. She’s a pretty lady, and I don’t wanna make her nervous.
***** is not smashingly attractive, but is probably the first pretty woman with whom I became friends. We stumbled along and now seem to be friends; that is, I don’t seem to make her nervous any more.
Years ago I would have avoided ******: “no pretty lady will ever associate with you, Bobby! You are despicable!”
So I was pursuing *****; mainly trying to not muck up.
My wife had to die to make me able to do that. My wife wasn’t an impediment; I just didn’t have any confidence. I long ago was marked for life: “No pretty lady,” etc. etc.
My first contact with ***** was years ago, when she was working for Rite-Aid across the street from where she is now.
I used to call her “angry-*****” back then, because she always looked mad. She trained as a pharmacist, but was being used as a clerk.
Suddenly the supermarket across from Rite-Aid opened up an in-store pharmacy, and employed ***** to head it.
She invited me to switch to her new pharmacy, so I did. I wanted to stay with *****; and was happy to see her happy.
Would I be able to retrieve *****? Had I lost her forever?
Similar gaffes occurred earlier.
About a year ago I goofed up my pretty lifeguard friend at Canandaigua’s YMCA swimming-pool.
That lifeguard gave me a restaurant gift-card in exchange for an additional train-calendar. She wanted it for a friend.
I suggested the one I most wanted to use it with was her.
Stupid me! She’s married of course, and I thought I lost her forever.
We met again a few days later and “happy to see ya!”
I went along; no turgid mea-culpas.
“If you can forget the other day, I guess I can too,” I said to myself.
Not long ago I made a similar gaffe. I thought I lost her that time too.
I thought I’d try that “happy to see ya” bit.“
It worked, amazingly; back to talking and smiling. As if she decided “if you can pretend you didn’t muck up, I guess I can pretend too.”
I thought I'd try that with pretty *****. “Happy to see ya,” and maybe she’d disregard my muck-up.
“Nothing for me,” I said to her helper; “but I’m hoping I can talk to *****.”
HERE SHE COMES! A bit tentative, but “happy to see ya” from me.
“Women are so forgiving,” an old college friend tells me.
Maybe enjoying each other’s company is more pleasant than being angry.
Yr Fthfl Srvnt doesn’t know any of this. Women are challenging, but so enjoyable.

• 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, and I gave one to *****, who passed it on to her little boy — a railfan.
• Of course, had my wife not died, I doubt I’d be befriending ladies.