Yesterday I was sitting at my usual perch atop a stool in Spin, one of my regular coffee shop hangouts, watching the crowd walk by through the window. A man sat down a few stools away and muttered something pleasant. I recognized him as someone I'd met before, once or twice, through my friend Gerry, though it took me a few moments to remember where I'd met him. A friendly enough conversation ensued. He was a portly man in his 50s, with a toupee covering what was surely a nearly bald head. Oh, sure, there may have been long strands of thin, fuzzy hair hanging from the sides of his head, but really nothing much more. He is a gay man, retired, though he denied it, claiming to be on sabbatical.... by now a six-year sabbatical which he assured me could come to an end at the mere mention of a word to his boss. I'd met him once at a concert--he sings in a couple of choruses about town. Blah blah blah, conversing, conversing, me thinking I'd really like to return to my reading materials, look at the time, maybe I shold leave early and read at home.. He asks if I have a boyfriend. He tells me a long term relationship had just ended badly. He's going to Canandaigua to check out some ballet event this weekend. Would I like to get together sometime next week for dinner, or perhaps a movie. Here, let me give you my number. Call me.

Yikes! The very next moring my man, let's call him Ron, high-tails it to my friend through whom I'd met Ron months earlier. Ron's inquiring about my "availability." Hahaha Ron, if you happen to stumble upon this, I'm so unavailable. In fact, I believe I have to wash my hair or something right now. I'm certain of it. (This last joke was stolen from Gerry--yes, the very one who has brought together Rom and me. Are Gerry and Brian free for an outing with John? No, Gerry has to wash his hair. hahaha Very funny, I thought, so I reuse.) Well, I have Ron's number tucked away for a rainy day... 30 years from now.

This evening I'm doing my stairmaster thing at the gym, trying again to read through some materials I'd brought--the very same materials I did not get to from the previous evening, due to Ron's distraction. The guy next to me... let's call him Ed... proceeds to ask me, out of the blue (though we'd already established that I know a bit about information technology), whether I knew anything about web design because, well, he'd like to put together a web site for his portfolio of his work as a model. Ed is not a vision to behold, mind you, and up close he's no scent to smell. Am I to believe Ed, a civil engineer for the State of NY by day, is a fashion model by night? Well, yes, yes I am. Honey Brown beer commercials, jeans, Tommy Hilfiger, etc. But he'd like to contribute his earnings to charity, give something back, you know, and this web site will do that. Do you follow this? No, neither do I. He's a nice, friendly chap, but really, I haven't enough interest to endure 30 minutes of distraction from him. Please, Ed, can I interest you in a fat gay man in a toupee? I'd really like to read some of this material on PL/SQL. That's what I want to do.