My friend Carole and I go to brunch at a classy, rich golf resort down the mountain.
We sit on the up scale patio next to the golf course. There’s a vast green view filled with grass, oak trees, designer clouds in the sky and old men trying to put balls into little holes.
The table beside us has grandparents and four tiny children. The kids keep shrieking and knocking on the back of my chair and sometimes they step on my toes as they race around the tables. One little girl says to me, “Why do you have gray hair?”
“It’s platinum,” I say. “I have it because I’m lucky.”
Carole and I are pretty much OK with the childish revelry because we have grandkids and we know how they are.
However….Carole has been single for centuries and so have I. We think it would be fun to talk to a nice, eligible man once in awhile.
I had suggested we go where all the men go on a Sunday morning; to a fancy restaurant on an expensive golf course.
That idea isn’t working out too well. Especially since I have a stomach ache and can’t eat very much.
Carole and I are disappointed today but we have been for years. We often go to luxury places and the men we have managed to meet have been disappointments. Like, they wear little tassels on their shoes and don’t exhibit any animal magnetism. Or, they are looking at these same places for rich women to take care of them, or to take advantage of women in some other ways.
A week or so later I stop at my brother Jim’s new place. He has moved his mobile kitchen, The 3rd St Grill, next to an old country convenience store right up the street from me. (more…)