Backhanded desire to meet again

—My most recent fantastic encounter with a female was backhandedly telling a lady-friend I looked forward to meeting her.
I did that by telling her I always looked for her car when I pulled into our parking lot.
This would be *****, my lifeguard friend at Canandaigua’s YMCA swimming-pool.
And perish-the-thought I think she liked hearing that.
I admit it was LUST years ago. (GASP!)
She’s not gorgeous but she is impressive.
When I began aquatic balance training and first saw her on her lifeguard stand: “she’s the pretty one!”
Never in a million years could I become friends with *****. A “looker” = too much for this kid.
But then she said hello to me by name out of the clear blue sky. She was probably just being sociable, but I blew that all wrong.
Somehow or other, despite my many flubs, and almost losing her twice, we became friends.
And it seems we’re way beyond lust.
What I like most about her is WE CAN TALK!
She’s not my wife, who died nine years ago.
But I throw concepts at ***** I used to throw at my wife.
There’s still a tiny perverse element to our relationship: the fact she’s female and I’m male. (GASP!)
Together we counter “No pretty lady will talk to you, Bobby! Your heart is full of evil intent!”
This seeing if her car was there has been floating around in the back of my head for some time.
I’ve always looked: “GOODY! She’s here!”
I never told her that, because it’s rather flirtatious.
But the other day her light blue Subaru Outback wasn’t there.
“New car,” she told me.
“So what do I look for now?” I asked her.
(There it is again readers: I’m backhandedly telling her I really like meeting her. What would my wife think about my newfound ability to do that with a pretty lady? In fact, what would my wife think of *****?)
We looked out the window into the parking-lot.
“See that dark-gray Toyota RAV4 over there parked next to that tree?”
“I’ll hafta check it out,” I said.
She didn’t walk away, she didn’t tell me to buzz off; she made sure I could look for her new car.
Sorry, I’m always amazed I can do something like this. This was not the way I was raised: “No pretty ***** will associate with you, Bobby!”