Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing
THE BLIND DATE
I lean close to the mirror and squint at my reflection as I snip gingerly at the tufts of hair growing out of my ears. I tell you, when I see God, I plan to ask Him why He thought it would be a good idea to move all the hair from my head to my nose and my ears. Maybe I could deal with that better if He hadn't also decided that it would be fun to mess with my eyesight, so that taking a pair of scissors to my new, unwanted hair gives me a real good chance of losing part of my ear at the same time. I tell you, old age sucks.
If I could do it again, it'd be different. Like, you never appreciate your hair till it's gone. All those years of short, regulation-length hair; just clipped away like it was an inconvenience, and then suddenly it's gone, and you finally realize what you actually had. Given another chance, I'd have one of them mullets. Hell, forget the mullet, I'd have a fucking beehive. Something that screams 'look at my hair. Look at all of it. It's mine, all mine'. I'd have eaten more fiber if I knew what was going to happen to my bowels too, but you probably don't want to know that. That's between a man and his bowels, and maybe his doctor too if he's real unlucky.
Still, hair or no hair, you gotta make the most of what you got left. I see guys in worse shape, all the time. Hell, half my friends are dead, God rest their souls. Gotta live for them, last man standing and all that. I wish these new teeth didn't pinch my gums so bad, though. If it weren't for the ladies I'd do without, but that's a rule you learn real fast: No teeth, no action. Don't matter if they're yours or not, they gotta see them.
I adjust my collar and tie a little, make sure it covers the folds of skin on my neck. Maybe I oughtta get one of them facelifts, get someone to trim it all away. Maybe.
Nah. Who really cares? The shirt covers it up, and if I get to the point of taking my shirt off, she's gonna be more interested in whether I've still got it downstairs or not. Which I have. God bless those little blue diamonds. Okay, God, maybe you're not so bad. At least you gave me the chance of a little action in my old age, with the right help.
I pick up the envelope with the movie tickets and the box of chocolates. Soft centres, just in case she don't have her own teeth either. You gotta be thoughtful if you're looking for the woman who might have to wipe your ass for you one day.
I take one final look at the picture she sent me so that I'd recognise her in the bar. She looks a little wrinkled, but her son-in-law said in the taxi that she's a real fine-looking woman in the flesh. Just waiting for the right man to carry her far away to a new life. I don't know why he was so keen on the far away part, but hey, he gave me the money for the tickets and the drinks, so who's judging? I ain't got many more years to waste. Me and Edna, we'll do just fine.