Old Mans Time She enters my field of vision and my pace quickens. Her long black hair probably isn't all hers, but who cares. His head is tilted to the side, which makes me wonder if he slept badly. Her jeans are perfect, barely able to contain her equally perfect ass. His sleeves are rolled up like that character from One Day at a Time, Snyder, I think his name was. His flip flops open and close with each step. I wonder how he can walk so fast with that lift. Must be a track star. I'm out of breath and can barely keep up with her. I'm determined to stay strategically behind her when we reach the door. Like a marathon runner seeing the finish line, I force my legs to push. We reach the door and I'm right behind her. That would be perfect, except I'm out of breath and can't speak. He holds the door open and I hiss out a thank you. I watch her walk out of my sight. The story of my life, girls abandoned me. Oh well, he was too young anyway. I need someone who has more of my speed, which is currently somewhere between slow and immobile. I haven't had any luck with older women lately either. These old ladies want the Katherine Hepburn treatment, a hard thing to do with a Social Security check. I'm no Humphrey Bogart, but I look good for my age, 71, my next birthday. My teeth are all mine and I have even more hair on my head than in my ears and nose. My dress is relatively trendy; there's no throw in my closet. I usually have no problem finding dates. First dates are fine, I have about a 90% conversion rate for second dates, and this is where the problems start. Holding a woman's hand is quite cute, romantic even if you like this mushy stuff. I'm a gentleman and I know that... middle of paper... I mean." "If you're going to stay out all night you should let me know, so I don't stay up worrying." I try to intervene, which It's a mistake. "It was my fault. She fell asleep and I should have called you.” “I'm not talking to you.” Insulted in my home. This is a special kind of feeling, like sand on your swim trucks. The testosterone level begins to increase. Luckily for him, I never took the blue pill last night, otherwise I would have been all sorts of angry. Mara feels it's best if they leave. “Thank you for a wonderful evening Bernie. I'll call you later." We hug and I'm tempted to kiss her like the French do, just to annoy Junior, but I won't disrespect my lady like that. I kiss her cheek and walk her to the door. First he lets her go and then stares at me as he walks out the door. "Children". The story of my life.