Here she comes again

—“It looks like she’s coming my way again,” I thought to myself at Canandaigua’s YMCA swimming-pool.
I was sitting on a bench poolside, early for my aquatic balance-training class.
“I hope so; it looks like she is.” She stopped, not right next to me, but close-enough. And she coulda gone elsewhere.
That would be *****, my pretty lifeguard friend, who my brother in Massachusetts now badmouths as a “looker;” since I had the awful temerity, unmitigated gall, and horrific audacity to describe ***** a “looker” for age-65.
“FLIRT” is another derogatory term my brother uses. My numerous lady friends are all “FLIRTS.”
“I don't know if you’re interested or not,” I said to *****; “but I decided last night all my dealings with women are severely distorted by my childhood.”
“We know all about it BobbaLew,” she said. “All of us in some way were affected negatively by our childhoods.”
“Tell me more,” I said. “Like how your father always said you were a handful to raise.”
“He always said that,” ***** said. “And I got tired of it.”
“Like that time I met your parents in my supermarket.
Your mother I recognized, since I always partnered with her in our aquatic balance-training class.
‘Well you can have her!’ your father snapped.”
“They always got along pretty good,” ***** said.
“Crackpots!” I exclaimed.
“During childhood,” I said; “I was convinced at age-5 no girl would ever have anything to do with me.
But now so many do, and it’s just talking. Strike up a conversation with a girl, devoid of hitting on ‘em, and they won’t leave. Especially the pretty ones.
Women love to talk, and I like talking with women.
I’m the product of overly-judgmental, hyper-religious Bible-beaters,” I told her.
(I won’t repeat her response — taste and decorum.)
***** is not the most talkative person in the world, but here she comes.
Often it’s me walking toward her, but just as often it’s her walking toward me.
Here I am poolside quietly waiting for my aquatic balance-training class to begin, and here comes *****!
It looks like she wants to talk — with me, the lifelong scumbag.
(“DREAMIN’!”)
How we ever got there after all the flubs I made with her I’ll never know.
But I sure like talking with *****.
I hope my liking that isn’t too distorted.

• Per Matthew 7-1 of the King James Version, Jesus said “Judge not, that ye be not judged…..” My Bible-beating parents woulda loudly adjudged me “rebellious” for even bringing that to their attention.
• As my wife told me: she once heard a Bible-beater exclaim “if the King James Version was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me.”