Saved by laughter, I hope

—If it’s Monday, there’s a pretty good chance I’m gonna hafta go to my pharmacy in Honeoye Falls.
There I might meet *****, head-honcho of that pharmacy. She also became one of my lady friends, much to my surprise.
Even a few months ago I woulda never thought ***** and I could become friends. Go back a couple years, and that woulda seemed utterly impossible.
I visited that pharmacy last week, and it looked like I was on-the-outs. Admitted, my experience with women is nil.
It looked like I had overdone it again: too smitten with pretty *****. It looked like ***** didn’t wanna talk to me.
Well okay; there was another girl there I needed to talk to, so hopefully that girl would be there.
More importantly, I was down to one pill on one prescription, so I needed it refilled. When I visited last week, it was to notify them regarding that prescription.
No notification yet!
And still no notification today (Monday, April 5th) either.
A third lady was serving me, but ***** was also there.
I wouldn’t bother her.
The third lady told ***** I needed that prescription refilled.
***** came over to tell me they needed to call the prescribing doctor.
YIPPEE! She’s talking to me. Maybe we can talk!
We talked a little about the prescription, but then “I have a tiny question if you can handle it.
My question is whether your little boy can read.”
“That’s your question?” she said. The poor girl was probably expecting one of my dreadfully long and boring dissertations on the meaning of life, etc.
Her son is six years old — I thought he was five — but he can read.
I’d give him the link to my April 2021 train-calendar blog, but I didn’t know if he could read it. I didn’t want ***** or her husband having to read it to him.
Her little boy is a railfan, but the blog only has one train picture.
“I have another tiny question if you can handle it.” It seemed like ***** wanted me to keep talking to her; she wasn’t walking away.
“I can't remember the name of your little girl.”
“That’s ‘Ellery’,” ***** said.
“As in ‘Ellery-celery’?” I asked.
“You are hilarious!” ***** shouted, laughing wildly — and I love seeing her laugh.
“At Transit we had a bus-washer named ‘Ellery.’ We used to call him ‘Ellery-celery’.”
Maybe two years ago a stunningly beautiful girl at a party told me what women like most is laughing.
By then I got so I could talk to a stunningly beautiful girl. I remember tapping her on the shoulder when I left to tell her I really enjoyed meeting her.
I also remember crying on my way home after the party, that I had so successfully engaged a stunningly beautiful girl.
It was probably my first attempt. She didn’t walk away. Direct eye-contact.
Go back to before my wife died, and I never coulda done that.
***** wasn’t walking away either: “I have another question if you can handle it. Who’s ‘Herman’?”
“That was my maiden-name,” ***** said.
“I did a Facebook search of you since I knew your full name,” I said. “Ya hafta know a person’s full name to do a Facebook search. Most of my lady friends I don’t know their last names.
I did one maybe eight years ago of a girl in my high-school class — same thing, I knew her full name.”
“You have a Facebook?” ***** exclaimed.
“Well sorta,” I said. “I put up with it — I don’t do much with it. The only reason I have one is because of a fast-one by SuckerBird and his cronies.”
“SuckerBird?” she shouted, laughing hysterically again. “How am I supposed to avoid this guy when he’s so funny?”
“I’m gonna Facebook search you!” ***** shouted. “We’re gonna be Facebook ‘friends’!”
“Really?” I thought to myself. “Me, the lifelong scumbag?”
I don’t know if I can handle this, readers. Yrs Trly is a graduate of the Hilda Q. Walton School of Gender Relations, whereby “No pretty lady, etc. etc.”
And ***** is a pretty lady.
The fact ***** and I are friends scotches the infamous Hilda.
“No pretty ***** will ever associate with you, Bobby! You are EVIL!”
Saved by laughter, I hope.

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Addendum for today: Tuesday, April 6th.
I had to revisit my pharmacy this morning so I could pick up the prescription I was out of.
***** was there. She turned and smiled at me, and then asked how I was.
I wish I was any good at this. My lifeguard friend at that YMCA swimming-pool does the same thing, and I lock up.
My ability socializing is nothing.
My lifeguard friend tells me what to say, but I never can get the words out.
My thought was if ***** is faking it, as my critics claim, she’s really good at it. She sure looked happy to see me.
She started telling me something about train pictures, and e-mail, etc.
—Enter what little experience I have talking with women = LET ‘ER TALK; don’t interrupt; she’s talking to you, and women love talking, especially *****.
I didn’t say anything for at least a minute; I let her talk!
She said some things I couldn’t make sense of, but I am not butting in.
“What railroad was it anyway? Livonia, Avon & Lakeville?”
“Yep!”
“Them guys, eh?” I said.
Our frenzied yammering continued: “we could talk forever,” she said.
“Yes, we probably could,” I thought to myself. “I love your talking to me, and it seems like you love talking to me.
Ya got me fumbling every which way = I’m lost!
I’m way older than you, yet you seem to thoroughly enjoy talking to me.”
I don’t get it. I’m a graduate of the Hilda Q. Walton School of Gender Relations. “No pretty lady will talk to you!” And ***** is a pretty lady.
Again, if she’s faking it, she’s extremely convincing.

• “Transit” equals Regional Transit Service (RTS), the public transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY, where I drove bus 16&1/2 years (1977-1993). My stroke October 26th, 1993 ended that. I retired on medical-disability. I recovered well enough to return to work, but not driving bus.
• “SuckerBird” is Mark Zuckerberg, founder and head-honcho of Facebook.
• Livonia, Avon and Lakeville Railroad is a shortline that operates quite a bit of the old Erie Railroad Rochester branch. By pursuing rail business it became very successful. LA&L also operates quite a few other small railroads that were originally independent shortlines.