Sir, I Don't Know Enough About You

I am a flirt. And recently this went a bit beyond flirtation with a man I hadn't seen in 50 years. He was a boy when I met him. I was a child woman. I was the aggressor. Now he's an old man who tracked me down. The result was sad, and made me feel a bit cruel and foolish, so before I engage in flirtation with a strange man, and who amongst you isn't, I need to know more. Because...

A little Gravy Waltz for the passage of the Stim.


  1. I went to my 50th high school reunion this summer. I've never been much of a reunion person, but I do like to track down old acquaintances. This turned out to be a magnificent combination.

    At one point I stood before the 3 first loves of my life...before high school. All 3 all at once. I commented on it in a way that I hope complimented them. Who doesn't need flattery at age 68?

    One of the 3 represented unfinished business...and I craftily schemed how to separate her from devoted hubby (of some 45 years) for enough time to have my way with her. Heh heh.

    But just as I was about to make my move, another woman I knew hardly at all ever came up from behind and asked me to dance. She had on a funny hat and some kind of webbed, duck feet. It was so absurd---and the gin was a-runnin' high---that I went off with her.

    Now I confess that I've fantasized having some moments with that junior high girlfriend for a long time...but there it was, and I blew it entirely. Maybe it's a guy thing.

    What I would have done, what I should have done, had I Cal's opportunity is pursue the situation relentlessly. I don't know about gifts particularly, but I think what I would do is test the waters with lots of compliments. Memories too...and how I've thought of them so often. This may take a lot of time in the evening, but there must be signs of acceptance, else humiliation is the only outcome.

    If she is intrigued beyond mere curiosity, it is time to seek equal ground. No, I would not shift into aggressive gear. I would find the ash, the crumb, the soupcon that an ember still glows. And out of that greater friendliness and understanding. Hopefully romance will emerge now, and it would be honest. Not all people need that I guess, but I do.

  2. I agree. Cal was dishonest in his response to me. He is dishonest in his relationship with himself. Cal is cheap and tight with money when it comes to both himself and with me. Cal has done nothing to address the problems created by his dishonesty and cheapness. He claims poverty now, now that it's too late. I can live with poverty, I cannot live with cheapness and dishonesty. The cheapness with himself if awful, his cheapness with me is embarrassing. I did not require gifts. I did require that he care enough about us both to present himself after 50 years at his best. He has forgotten his best, he cares little for his best. He can't see himself and has become invisible to me.

  3. OK Utah.

    Bartender, a cheap bottle of cabernet please. And in half an hour, your best champagne---chilled (of course).

    Look, my first wife was Gemini. Her deal was: big problem? See you in divorce court. Nothing in between. No counseling, no negotiation, no---conversation--- Well, that's not fair: maybe there was some of that, but I was ignorant. Two kids.

    I went to the proceedings, dressed in my best suit. She said, If you say anything it'll be thrown out. My lawyer had advised, If it's thrown out, then where will you be? He was a really dumb fuck---and my cousin.

    When I arrived, another attorney asked me, How many have you got today? I said, I'm a defendant. Apparently such creatures were unknown.

    Anyway, the whole thing (especially the invitation to reconcile afterwards) was very painful. Maddening actually.

    So I developed this thing about Geminis. PAIN...not at first...but eventually...inevitably.

    What I like about you, and what makes you different to my infantile experience, is you open up. You're there. You're sad about what happened, about your expectations, about the shattering---well...the withering.

    I'm not used to that---and you've helped me. You've helped me a great deal! All that was 40 years ago...and because you can show some of it, you've eased my pain.

    Please get into that: you've helped a guy over here. Now...

    people are staring.

    You ever have that happen?

    The intensity of our conversation takes over the room?

    We need to help the Wulfshead. Let's finish this cabernet, and then have a few dances. Both will be good medication. Then---

    if we're up to it, old lady,

    let's pop the cork on that New Year's Eve and Valentine combined,

    and shake this joint! What d'ya say?

  4. How could I be so foolish to refuse such a charming and disarming invitation to the dance. Thank you.

  5. You are sweet my dear. And as we trot the fox, let's remember as political beings what hard times these are. How trapped we may find ourselves in our circumstances. How different from the '60s when jobs were plentiful and we just skipped from place to place---or flew in the sky with diamonds. Now we may find friends and old men down on their luck...looking for a home. 2-3-4
    Lost count there.
    So let us practice our compassion and be grateful we have a place to gather at the Wulfshead...and enough pennies to afford it. There are those who may have suffered through the years...and cannot.

    Thanks for the great dance, Utah. Sure is great to watch Diana play great jazz piano again.