How to Attract Older Men (Whether You Want Them or Not)

Since I became an older woman, things have never been worse. I'm uglier, stupider, I want to take a trip to Jupiter...My fingers are askew, including arthritic thumbs that unknowingly, give strangers the impression I'm hitch-hiking. It took me a while to figure that out, so now if I'm on the street or in a parking lot, I try to remember to keep my hands out of view. I'm growing weary of telling cars not to stop, that I'm just walking to my own car...They really do stick out like sore thumbs...

I might not be getting the looks from younger men like I used to, but I have geriatric gents practically lining up at my door. If I weren't married, I'm pretty confident I could have my pick of the over 90 crowd. I've had offers to take me to early bird specials, bingo games and wheel-chair races.  Since I became an oldster myself, they seem to be coming out of the woodwork! 

 I was recently doing some extravagant spending at "The Goodwill" when an old man asked for my advice. The first thing I noticed, besides his barn door being open, was his tee shirt that said "Chick Magnet". I was thinking he looked more like a magnet for axle grease. Even though I didn't want it, he gave me his number. He wanted me to find scrap metal for his hobby of making signs. No problem, Mister. Would you like me to shine your shoes or paint your house?

I'm trying to understand why the older you get, the more the old buzzards flock to you. I guess wrinkly, flabby, arthritic crows are better than deceased ones. Although, having a dead wife would mean less talking. I know how men feel about us. I know how we feel about them too...#!@##+Argh!*##!!! 

I was almost inside the door of a local drugstore, when I stopped to pet a cute dog. Since my own dog and cat died, I've really been missing their company. There's nothing like the love you get from animals. I can't remember the last time my husband licked my face...

Having this cute drugstore doggy was like a paradise for me - for about 30 seconds. Suddenly, an elderly man interfered with my happiness. He cut into my time with him and tried to get his attention.  I was fuming inside! Can't I ever get what I want? Who did this codger think he was, trying to touch and get love from my pet? I almost forgot to say that the dog started growling at him and nipping at his wrist - serves him right! I don't really mean that, or do I?

He screwed everything up for me, so I thought of just calling it a life and heading through the door to shop. This was not to happen because I ended up on the same sidewalk listening to him tell me the story of his life. He was really nice, but I just wanted some bunion pads, not hear about all of his WW11 stories! He wore a hat that started the whole lousy conversation. I must make a mental note to stop commenting on things like that. I heard about air raids and hostages, awards for bravery, women and children who were saved by him and his troops - all good things, but I wasn't in the mood. I wanted my bunion supplies!

Forty five minutes later, I tried to say goodbye again. Suddenly, he raised his voice, just as the drugstore sliding door was opening. A line of probably ten people heard him yell, "Why don't you ditch your husband for the night and go have a drink with me?" I looked inside and saw some of the customers laughing. I don't get embarrassed that easily, but sheesh, this guy was at least 98 years old! He tried to get my phone number and the whole bit, but the only information I gave was my measurements. 

Tune in tomorrow when I give instructions on How to Catch the Buzzard of Your Dreams.