Last Saturday evening I was dashing out the door, late to meet Lost in Translation for dinner, and the Old Boy next door was out in his front yard talking to the couple who live on the other side of him. We all waved hello.
"He's a lucky fella, hazel," said the Old Boy when he saw me. Which was a nice thing to say but still sent a shiver down my spine because, you know, recent events.
"Thanks, Old Boy. But it's not a man, it's a woman."
Everyone kind of paused. Wait, I thought, that didn't come out like I meant. I hopped in my car and zoomed away, leaving everyone in a fog of confusion and ozone-depletion. So last night when New Girl came to visit, looking gorgeous as always, I did wonder what might pass through the Old Boy's mind.
But then what do I care what he or anyone thinks because, hey, check me out - I pulled a hot chick!
2 comments:
Tee hee. I wish I turned up with a peculiar shaped package. As opposed to just BEING one.
Promise me you will start to dance Ellen D moves each time you water the lawn or check the mail box.
These are not euphemisms.
Love it!
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