Back to the reality I prefer

—“You smile at me, and I hafta say hello to you.”
She giggled; she liked that I liked what I saw.
She was probably 16 or 17, and had rode bicycle along Lehigh Valley RailTrail, probably with her parents.
We were in the parking-lot next to the youth baseball fields. Many games were going on, and she was watching.
I’d hiked the rail-trail, and was headed for the porta-johns.
Cutie-pie — she wasn’t that cute — was wearing a bare-shouldered open tank-top that displayed a lotta cleavage.
What attracted me were her eyes. She looked right at me as I passed.
“Houston, we have eye-contact!”
Would that all male/female relationships worked that way. What matters is eye-contact, not sexual attributes.
I hafta hope what made her giggle was that I liked the eye-contact a lot more than what I coulda seen.
I’d made it a point to look only into her eyes, and not down the front of her top.
Amazingly there was no fatherly input; I thought later I mighta got slugged.
Although her father might weigh in later regarding what she wears.
I coulda gone behind her, but there wasn’t room.
“I hafta say something,” I said to another lady as I continued across the parking-lot.
“Normally I don’t say anything to anyone; normally I keep to myself. But I think I see real gray hair.”
She smiled gigantically: the gigantic “this guy noticed, and he likes what he sees.”
“My baby sister in VA is letting her hair go gray,” I said. “She brags ‘it’s the coming thing’.”
“Well, we ladies have to keep ourselves gorgeous,” she said.
“Gray is gorgeous,” I said, pointing to my head.
BAM! Another gigantic smile.
“I have it too,” I said as I walked away.
“Have a nice day!” she smiled again.
“Glad I said something,” I thought to myself.
Welcome home dude! Back to a reality much more pleasant than years ago.
Back from Altoony chasing trains with my brother.
I like doing it; I’m a railfan.
But he repeats the same sorry litany I endured all my life.
And now 70 years late I leave it behind.
I’ve made so many successful eye-contacts, I no longer avoid people, especially females. (“GASP!”)
“This guy actually likes women, and for the right reasons: talk, talk, talk, talkity, talk!”
I’ll not let some nattering-nabob-of-negativism dissuade me from striking up conversations with females = enjoying females.
Too many successes.

• “Houston, we have eye-contact” repeats “Houston, Tranquility Base here, the Eagle has landed:” July 20, 1969, first time humans were on the Moon.
• Both of these incidents are repeats of things I’ve done before. What matters is now I am much more inclined to strike up conversations, especially with females. This is the reality I’ve finally begun to enjoy 70 years late = a reality not distorted by Bible-beaters. (“GASP AGAIN!”)