The other day, a woman and her husband’s great aunt came over to buy pink floral plates for the younger woman’s daughter’s baby shower. They spent an hour as the mom held up dishes, asking the older woman her opinion.
“I’m 98,” the great aunt said, “and there’s nothing wrong with me!”
“I’m 71,” I said, and there’s lots of things wrong with me!”
“I’m 55,” the mom said, “and same for me.”
The older woman went on about how she lives alone in her own house and how she planned to make it to 100.
“Do you still drive?” I asked.
“No,” the older woman said. “I wish I did.”
At any rate, the woman was an inspiration for the rest of us. She was coherent, and happy, telling me how her great nephew’s children loved her and told her so.
“So do you have kids?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“Aha!” I said. “Now we know your secret.”
The younger woman laughed.
Fast forward to the next evening, when I was at a local park, dancing on concrete to a Beatles tribute band. As my older partner and I danced to almost every song, people our age sat in their lawn chairs and sang along. My partner was being silly and making me laugh. I knew many people in the crowd and there was lots of hugging to do.
At the break, a friend from way back came over to chat. I told her I needed to go to the bathroom and she said she’d come with me. We skipped the long line at the permanent bathrooms and headed to the porta potties (which actually smelled better inside).
The band started back up with Sargeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, so I did what any Beatles fan would do. I sang along as I did my business. I realized the person in the porta potty next to me was also singing along. He was a little off key, but he had the enthusiasm needed for such a great song.
Guys are faster than gals at going to the bathroom, so when I came out to wash my hands at the little handwashing station where you pump the water with your foot, the guy at the other station glanced up to see who he sang the duo with. He was younger than me, and maybe disappointed that his song buddy was an older woman in a big red hat. He looked down before I could even give him a smile.
Back at the lawn chairs, my dance buddy was waiting for me to return. He asked me to take a video of him on my phone, since his phone battery was dead. I did it wrong and ended up with no video of him but a 34-minute video of the inside of my pocket, which I discovered when I got home and tried to send it to him.
I wonder if the 98-year-old woman would’ve done any better. I wonder if she still gets to dance.
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 