Writing is like being able to put life into a snow globe. It takes the things that are too big and scary and reduces them into a form that I can put away when I want and look at from a distance. It also takes all that’s good in life and captures it into something I can take out when I want and look at close up and keep forever. It makes the bad things into something I can hold…and the good things into something I can hold onto. Both help so much that I need that little souvenir of life.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Senior Sex(less) and the City: Episode #12

Mr. Pick Up
I met Mr. Pick Up on a hot summer night. The excitement at the outdoor concert was almost electrical, the band, electrifying. He was tall, muscular, handsome. Considerably younger than I am. Was it that it was so dark out or that he just didn’t care? He slid an arm around my waist and I let him. Newly divorced, he said. Yes, it was obvious what he was after, but let’s face it, after forty-five a bad reputation is quirky at worst, almost admirable at best. Heck, cougars are practically a good thing! But…the bottom line is another one of those sad ironies of life. Respect matters at my age. And the question isn’t whether they respect me, but whether I respect them. Mr. Pick Up tucked his card into my hand. “Call,” he whispered. Months later, I still have the card. But I know I keep it only so I can say: What’s wrong with me?! I could have had a hot guy!

Next week: Episode #13, The I’m-Not-Drunk-Dude


  1. This guy was so hot, he might have left you with a burning sensation! Wise woman, you are. Selective is a good thing.

  2. For some reason I'm envisioning phrases Mr. Pick Up might put on his card. Almost like on the bathroom wall..."For a good time call..."


  3. And I'm envisioning a used car sales man. You know those guys you can't take your eyes off of, hang on their every word and then...

    They sell you a lemon. :)
    Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow

  4. Eeewwww...the guy gives me the creeps, via the internet!!

  5. You guys are so funny! Good one, Linda--eww! He really wasn't a slime, though. He was an engineer who designs medical supplies. Just newly divorced and ready to live again, though perhaps way too forward about it!!!

  6. Well, at least he didn't ask for your number but offered his instead. Makes you wonder how many of those little cards he has floating around out there, doesn't it?

  7. Lisa, I wondered the same thing. Since he was still there when I left the concert, I wondered how many he left that night!


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