Enter pretty *****: stage-right
—“Whoooo, whoooo, whoo-whoooo!” the ringtone on my iPhone, the whistle of restored steam-locomotive Nickel Plate 765 approaching a grade-crossing: two longs, a short, and a long. (I'm a railfan.)
I’d just gotten up, and was getting dressed. My iPhone said it was “Honeoye Falls Pharmacy.”
Pretty ***** is head honcho of that pharmacy (my pharmacy).
“Holy mackerel!” I exclaimed.
That could be *****, one of my all-time favorite pretty lady-friends.
“DON’T MUCK UP! Don’t cut her off!” I’ve done it before; you can’t just answer a SmartPhone.
Everything has to be done just so = ten seconds just to answer a phone-call.
Plus, you can’t get near a SmartPhone without it performing some unwanted magic.
“Quick!” the facial-recognition says; “that Hughes guy — FaceTime some unintended contact!”
It indeed WAS pretty *****. She announced herself, but I knew it was her just hearing her pretty voice.
Pretty *****, the lady-friend I most enjoy, and also the one I least expected to befriend.
She seems kind of dour, but not with me. It seems we enjoy each other immensely, and just the other day we really struck sparks.
“No pretty ***** will call you up!”
What a thrill! Pretty *****, the lady-friend I least expected to befriend.
She’s not gorgeous, but she’s pretty enough to intimidate me years ago.
Her pharmacy got an allotment of the COVID-19 vaccine. She wanted to know if I’d been vaccinated yet.
“Aw-man!” I moaned. “March 24th at Thompson Hospital. And I wish it had been you.”
For some unfathomable reason, pretty ***** and I became friends. I do my best to make a big fuss over her — she deserves it. And I like her!
For a long time I stayed away from pretty *****; it seemed she didn’t want me to get friendly.
Then “I can’t leave this store without saying hello to *****.” (In-store pharmacy in my supermarket.)
For whatever reason she liked that = she responded favorably.
“Yes *****, that Hughes guy likes you. And he’s not some lonely hot-to-trot widower; he can get along without you if need be, and try someone else. But maybe we could be friends; just talk. Romance is for kids!”
“You know what would happen if you were the vaccinator?” I’d say to her.
“We would talk and talk and talk and talk and talk some more. I’d hate leaving, and you’d hate going back to work.”
It’s great fun to talking to *****, and she seems to like talking with me.
I hope I’m as much fun as she is; I guess I am. Often she starts talking with me first, and yesterday she even called me up.
I look in the mirror and wonder how in the world she can get any pleasure out of talking with me. I’m way older than her, and I’m way over the hill, although I don’t remember a hill.
70 years late I learn “no pretty lady will talk to you!” was BALONEY!
I have this debatable thought, probably mistaken, she may have called me up just so we could talk.
I’d just gotten up, and was getting dressed. My iPhone said it was “Honeoye Falls Pharmacy.”
Pretty ***** is head honcho of that pharmacy (my pharmacy).
“Holy mackerel!” I exclaimed.
That could be *****, one of my all-time favorite pretty lady-friends.
“DON’T MUCK UP! Don’t cut her off!” I’ve done it before; you can’t just answer a SmartPhone.
Everything has to be done just so = ten seconds just to answer a phone-call.
Plus, you can’t get near a SmartPhone without it performing some unwanted magic.
“Quick!” the facial-recognition says; “that Hughes guy — FaceTime some unintended contact!”
It indeed WAS pretty *****. She announced herself, but I knew it was her just hearing her pretty voice.
Pretty *****, the lady-friend I most enjoy, and also the one I least expected to befriend.
She seems kind of dour, but not with me. It seems we enjoy each other immensely, and just the other day we really struck sparks.
“No pretty ***** will call you up!”
What a thrill! Pretty *****, the lady-friend I least expected to befriend.
She’s not gorgeous, but she’s pretty enough to intimidate me years ago.
Her pharmacy got an allotment of the COVID-19 vaccine. She wanted to know if I’d been vaccinated yet.
“Aw-man!” I moaned. “March 24th at Thompson Hospital. And I wish it had been you.”
For some unfathomable reason, pretty ***** and I became friends. I do my best to make a big fuss over her — she deserves it. And I like her!
For a long time I stayed away from pretty *****; it seemed she didn’t want me to get friendly.
Then “I can’t leave this store without saying hello to *****.” (In-store pharmacy in my supermarket.)
For whatever reason she liked that = she responded favorably.
“Yes *****, that Hughes guy likes you. And he’s not some lonely hot-to-trot widower; he can get along without you if need be, and try someone else. But maybe we could be friends; just talk. Romance is for kids!”
“You know what would happen if you were the vaccinator?” I’d say to her.
“We would talk and talk and talk and talk and talk some more. I’d hate leaving, and you’d hate going back to work.”
It’s great fun to talking to *****, and she seems to like talking with me.
I hope I’m as much fun as she is; I guess I am. Often she starts talking with me first, and yesterday she even called me up.
I look in the mirror and wonder how in the world she can get any pleasure out of talking with me. I’m way older than her, and I’m way over the hill, although I don’t remember a hill.
70 years late I learn “no pretty lady will talk to you!” was BALONEY!
I have this debatable thought, probably mistaken, she may have called me up just so we could talk.
posted by BobbaLew at 8:48 AM
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