Photo by Sue Vincent
“No, really, it’s just a hole in the ground.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, when I was your age, my place was a pretty nasty hole. Being a straight guy, I bet it was much worse than yours.”
Meghan smiled, an enduring look from under her eyelashes, as if she couldn’t decide if she were more embarrassed about the situation or excited.
“OK,” she said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I lead her to my car and wondered about my situation.
I was not a great socializer; far from it. In fact, I hadn’t been out with a woman since the divorce.
But it wasn’t just that.
It was Meghan’s age.
I know the way of the world. I’m a 50-something year old guy. 20-something women don’t want anything to do with us. If I tried to flirt with one, at best they’d think I…
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