By Dr. Robert E. Plucker
After my former wife had
called it quits, I had made up my mind to not ever have anything serious to do with
any woman again. This intention lasted
about as long as most New Year resolutions, and it was not long before I
thought it would be nice to have a serious woman friend. But I was not exactly young anymore, and I
had made up my mind that I would be careful never to date a woman younger than
33. That would still be quite a gap in
our ages, but 33 was as far as I dared stretch things without robbing the
cradle.
At another place in
these essays I believe I have told the story of how Margaret gave me her phone
number after hearing me whine about not knowing anyone to call in the 387
exchange that I was living in, Camano Island.
It turned out that I could call her without going long distance. She had been singing in my church choir, she
had been interested in attending a class in church music that I was to give,
the notion of riding together to Everett to the church choir rehearsals seemed
good, we became “associated.” Somehow,
probably through some anxious questioning on my part, the subject of age came
up, and I suppose I must have told her my age, 49 at the time. She said she was 33. Big sigh of relief from me because our “association”
had gone so far that I was definitely not going to give it up.
I think it must have
been on the occasion of her next birthday, May 6th, that I found out she
was GOING TO BE 33, and had jumped the gun by some eight or nine months. Why did she say 33 when she was only 32? She had no idea that I had set up a maximum
age requirement, and the only reason, she said, that she gave the higher number
was that it “sounded better” to her. Suppose I had known from the beginning that
she was too young for me! Ach! Himmel!
Who knows what awful thing could have happened?
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