Who’s it gonna be today?

—“Were you by any chance the one who sold me that standalone last October?”
“Probably,” the lady said. “I’m the only female on the staff.”
“I sorta remember telling you you had pretty eyes,” I said.
“Why thank you!” she whispered, probably repeating what she said to me last October.
Some women have ‘em, but most don’t.
I’ve told hundreds, and I’ve yet to get smacked.
I was at my computer venue to get my standalone backup-drive working. I had to leave behind this laptop, but it would be a “quick-fix.”
I’d run errands while it was being fixed.
“And that wasn’t a FLIRT!” I yelled, as I walked away.
“Per Governor Cuomo?” a customer asked.
“It was just an observation,” I said. But the lady was smiling = I think I made her happy.
“See ya later, alligator!” she laughed as I exited the store.
“After ‘while, crocodile,” I shouted back.
We were wearing masks, but her gorgeous eyes sparkled.
Maybe a half-hour later, she called my cell-phone. I was running an errand at least 15 miles distant.
She needed my computer master login password; I hadn’t left it with her.
That master password is **************.
I returned later to pick up this rig.
“If interested,” I told her; “************** is the neatest motor-vehicle my wife and I ever owned.
We drove that sucker all the way to Montana, and all the way up the Pikes Peak Highway.
There was only one problem: every 300 miles, 30 gallons!
I pulled into a lonely gas station out in Wyoming, no civilization visible anywhere, and I heard cheering out back: ‘slap another steak on the grill, Martha! 40 gallons!’”
“You are so cute!” she exclaimed. Her eyes twinkled. She was laughing.
Every morning I ask myself “what day is it today?”
—If it’s Monday it’s pretty ***** at my pharmacy in Honeoye Falls.
—Tuesday is the “temperature-ladies” outside Thompson Hospital’s Physical-Therapy department.
—On Wednesday it’s my pretty lifeguard friend at Canandaigua’s YMCA swimming-pool.
—Thursday I chance meeting some pretty young jogger as I walk my imaginary dog along Lehigh Valley RailTrail.
—Friday it’s that YMCA swimming-pool again, where I chance talking with my aquacise instructor: another attractive smiler.
—Saturday it's the Wegmans supermarket in Canandaigua. “Happy to see ya” with those I know, and “gotta say hello to her” with the unknowns.
And if I may say so, women love talking, and here I am talking on equal terms, but not hitting on ‘em.
I’ve had it happen so many times. “Say something to her, say hello.” She’ll be thrilled she attracted me enough to wanna talk to her.
Things were different this week. Thompson PT’s “temperature ladies” were Monday, plus I had a young college girl doing my physical-therapy as a trainee — we had a wonderful time.
So I figgered no fabulous female contacts today (Tuesday).
But there was that lady at my computer-store.

• “See ya later, alligator” is prior century. Say that to a millennial, and they’ll think you’re whacko. “Call Security!