Tonight we celebrated health care reform at The Texas Embassy, a Tex-Mex, Americana-style restaurant.
Story of my life: There were no cute young professional males. Oh, but someone still bought me a drink. A lovely woman named Judy who is in her 70s and undoubtedly wealthier than I. She’s a psychotherapist.
And then there’s Jody, my other new friend, who is also in her 70s. She likes to talk about her ex-husbands. Her business card prominently features two pictures, one with Prince Charles and one with Bill Clinton. Together with my landlady, we drank margaritas and discussed men. I was really more of an information absorber than sharer. Mary told me to make sure I find someone who expands my horizons, not diminishes them. Another item to add to the checklist.
If you average out the ages of all of my friends here, you get someone nearing retirement. Which makes sense, really, since I also go to bed early, have a bad back and very vocal joints, and like to wear purple.