Inspiration for the Young at Heart

Damaged Goods^R6

April Knight

When you are over sixty, it is hard to find someone to date. In fact, it is nearly impossible.

I asked my friends to introduce me to their brothers, cousins, neighbors, anyone, but according to them, they didn't know any unmarried men. I didn't believe them and suspected they were hoarding all the single men for themselves.

I had joined clubs, gone to lectures, volunteered for practically everything, tried sports I hated, visited different church senior singles events and checked out the Internet. Nothing had worked. I think the last time I had a date Reagan was President. Okay, I could be wrong about that, but it had been a while.

My friend, Marsha, started dating a very nice man and was annoyingly happy. She said she'd met him at the grocery store between the carrots and green peppers. By the time they reached the checkout, he'd asked her for a date.

Well, that might be fine for Marsha, but I was hoping for something a little more romantic, like meeting him in a field of daisies or seeing each other across a crowded room and experiencing love at first sight.

Sometimes, you can wake up on a perfectly ordinary morning and feel like something wonderful is going to happen to you.

Thursday morning I woke up, went into the kitchen to make my coffee and promptly turned around and hit the left side of my face on a cupboard door that had swung back open. It only took a few minutes before my eye was black, puffy and nearly swollen shut. It also kept tearing up so that I had to keep dabbing at it to keep it from leaking down my face.

I also had a root canal scheduled that morning and the tooth happened to be on the left side of my face. The dentist was so repulsed by the way my eye looked that he laid a paper towel across my eye so he wouldn't have to look at it. He said he did it to protect my eye, but I think it was because he was repulsed.

After the root canal I decided I'd better stop at the store on my way home and get some soft food to eat that night. I was bending over the frozen dinners trying to find something that would require very little chewing when a man stopped beside me on my right side. I glanced up at him with my right eye. He was tall, in my age range, and wasn't wearing a ring.

"It's hard to find a frozen dinner that tastes better than the box it came in," he said. "When you live alone, it really isn't worth trying to cook a meal."

"Yes, you're right," I said. I'm a brilliant conversationalist.

"I get tired of frozen dinners but it's no fun to go out and eat alone. Sometimes it would be nice just to have someone to have dinner with once a week," he smiled.

My mind was racing. He's nice, he's tall, he's mentioned twice he is single. Marsha was right! You could meet a man in the grocery store. This was my lucky day!

"Yes, it would be wonderful to have someone to have dinner with, someone to talk to." I stood upright and turned to face him.

He stared at me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, were you in an accident?" he asked.

I reached into my purse and took out my compact. My eye was black, swollen shut, and leaking tears. My jaw was the size of a baseball from the root canal and I was drooling just a little from the corner of my mouth because my lips were numb and swollen.

I looked like I should be ringing a bell in a tower. The only thing missing was a hunch on my back and the day wasn't over yet.

"I've had a bad day." I started to explain that I didn't always look like this but he was already backing away.

"Try the roast beef dinner; it's pretty good," he said and pushed his cart down the aisle as quickly as he could.

I decided to accidentally bump into him at the checkout to explain why I looked hideous but he was too clever. When I reached the tea and coffee aisle I saw his abandoned cart. He'd left without his bananas, onions and bread.

Well, his loss. He'd left behind his groceries and possibly the great love of his life. If all he cared about was superficial looks, then he wasn't the right man for me anyway. In another week my eye wouldn't be black and leaking and my cheek wouldn't be swollen and I wouldn't be drooling and even if I ran into him in the store again, I wouldn't speak to him. After all, I have my pride!

I think I'll call Marsha and ask her where she buys her groceries.

(846 words)