Being DEPEND-abled

Last weekend, the ladies and I spent quality time, with wine, at the Arts Festival. Since we had not seen each other in a while, conversation turned from school to homes to books and to bad dates.

I had forgotten about this story.

Once upon a time, there was a successful silver fox living in my town. His fifth wife took him for everything.

When he returned to town for a wedding, he invited me to lunch.

“Now that I’m selling real estate,” he explained, “I’ve had to give up my yearly birthday gift to myself – liposuction.”

I laughed at the way he saw the changes in his life and lifestyle.

After lunch, he invited himself back to my house to watch True Blood. I know. When I was re-capping this story for my girlfriends on Saturday, I couldn’t figure out how that happened.

He excused himself to use the powder room, came back, and said, “You know, I remember the first time I saw you. You were wearing a black v-neck dress with pearls at the Jazz Festival Gala.”

That was impressive. That event happened six years earlier.

I excused myself to visit the powder room. In the wastebasket, was his DEPEND undergarment.

I guess it is good to be dependable.

But, I cannot bring myself to depend on someone depend-abled – yet.