Chapter 37 Dating At Seventy or The Born Again Virgin



Well, it’s quite different than at 20 that’s for sure. But still interesting, the same mental torture of waiting for the next text. Seems telephone calls have gone out of fashion now. It is still phone association, no ringing, just reading.

I always thought of sex as a sport, and therefore number one is I have to be in shape, which I felt at my age I could finally forget by now. I cannot. I still have not recuperated fully from my amazing hip adventure, mostly because I did not do enough rehab, which for some reason I thought was like going to the gym. What is it in our heads that just says ¨I don’t want to go¨ A negative brain implant from nowhere?

So even before New Love appeared, I started swimming again and some gym light to strengthened my legs. I mean there is nothing sexy about getting out of bed and limping towards the bathroom. I would rather just wet the bed. I am much improved; and only after aweek.  I am building up stamina, and that is just to be in the classic missionary position. Anything else and he is just too late by 30 years. I wonder if all missionaries really stuck to the plan, but occasionally veered off the road and went native? Should I ask Alexis? By the way I am not asking Alexis anything, Siri would be furious as I never even said good morning to her. I asked Siri only one question where I could find love? and she said not in the refrigerator.


Back to New Love.

We, the “we” in all Women, do not change. After the first important initial romantic interlude, when snuggle time happened, I asked him “when was the last time he had sex?” he does not reply, or plays deaf. And then I feel like an idiot, this was a lead question, so I could go into my own last time, which was so long ago I forgot it. Well not really it was with my long-time affair, which turned into a very long-time goodbye, it was 6 months ago.  On a Friday afternoon at 6:00 pm.  I am not counting a little seduction in an empty shoe factory a few months ago, that had him so terrified, nothing much hard developed. But enormous fun for a Thursday afternoon.


Am I a slut? Yes, but terribly unused. I guess unlike my shoes that have no fashion expiration date, my slut days expired a long time ago. You could say I am a born-again Virgin.


Of course, I wore my favorite shoes; style Beauty. They did not stay on long, but that was the idea.


But I think this younger man, is quite infatuated, and is also available, not being married, which was something I was quite addicted to previously. You do all know that is just a waste of makeup-

He has a yacht, which was always on my list since I live in the Mediterranean and is very fashionable with wearing all the right brands, handsome, drives a Mercedes, and a good body. My requirements are simple.


I never liked my body at any age, and certainly don’t like it now. All of a sudden, I have someone else’s arms, because my bat wings, although less voluminous with my Mediterranean diet,  have been replaced with loose wrinkled skin. I do not even wear sleeveless alone in the house, too terrifying.  My best angle is lying down with a sheet to my chin.  I feel I look my best fully dressed with 2 hours of hair and makeup.

The morning after is always a day lost in my life. This particular morning after a night of sexcapades with champagne, joints, Alicia Keyes, and homemade tarte tatin, I walked directly into a glass door with my nose. I was wearing sunglasses, as I didn’t have the energy to take off my last night´s makeup. Unfortunately, my nose sticks out more than my boobs, which in itself is a scary thought. It hurt a lot. Oh god, I thought, I am still paying for my last facelift, I just can’t afford a nose job. I texted my lawyer, because it was his building, and got him ready to sue for damages…..


A half hour later, it started bleeding.  I drove myself to the emergency which is nothing like any emergency hospital in the states. Besides, it was lunch time, so it was totally empty. A very sweet doctor attended me. I had not broken anything. Then another young doctor came in and they told me they were at my house this summer for Pedro´s birthday party. The famous party that I pulled the plug on the techno music that had been playing for 11 and half hours. Small world.


Maybe I would not have walked into a glass door 30, 40 or 50   years ago, who knows? But I did this time. The power of Love?  Or the stupidity of the construction workers putting up a glass door with no safety stickers?


The greatest thing about the morning after was I thought, “finally I will have a date for New Year’s Eve!” That is how an obsessed woman who loves shoes thinks after a first date.


I think it might be real love because all of a sudden, I want to wear high heels again!

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