it read. "Fun loving group of local seniors who meet for the purpose of making new friends. All are
welcome".
"Hmmmmmmm"... thought Mindi, ever the perceptive soul, "My social problems are over"! Visions of rich bankers, debonair tycoons, and an endless assortment of available men danced through her head. With a twinkle of anticipation in her eye, Mindi fired off an email to gain more information on this gold mine of future happiness she had discovered. She could not have been more impressed with the swiftness of the return mail. She quickly read the reply, each line causing more excitement.
"Hmmmmmmm"... she said again, when she read there were no fees required to join the elite group. "These people are good". Everything she read sounded exactly like the the kinds of things she had been wanting to do, if only there had been a handsome man to squire her around. Now it looked like all her problems were solved.
Later that evening she received a call from some distinguished sounding gentleman who indentified himself as a representative from the Mid Cities Seniors.She was indeed impressed. He sounded so business like, almost scholarly, with just a bit of humor.
"A retired Judge" she decided, "or maybe a former Army general". She knew strong leadership skills would be necessary to head such a group of socialites, aristocrats, and dignitaries. After her caller satisfactorily answered all her questions, and piqued her curiosity even more, he suggested a meeting with some select members of the group. Eager to move into the upper echelon of Mid Cities society, Mindi readily agreed to such a meeting.
Knowing that the wealthy often gave of their time and resources to support worthy charitable causes, (How else could mere mortals survive without fees?) Mindi asked who she might be meeting with. Surely there would be at least one name she would recognize from the Society pages of the Gazette.
After hearing the names mentioned, and not being familiar with even one of them, she was even more impressed. "These people are so prominent and well placed that I have not heard of any of them", she thought. She immediately went to her closet and perused her most recent outfits. She wanted to present just the right image to her new best friends.
The phone was ringing as Mindi eopened the door to her apartment. She hurried to catch it before the answering machine picked up.
"Hello", she said breathlessly.
"Mindi"? She recognized the voice immediately. "I promised I would call you back about getting
together with some people from Mid Cities Seniors".
"Oh yes", she said excitedly. "I'm so glad to hear from you again so soon".
"Well, we're looking forward to meeting you as well".
Mindi could not have been more pleased when she heard they wanted to meet her at the Mid Cities Yacht Club. She knew exactly where it was. Although she had never been there, she allowed him to give her directions none the less. It was working just as she had imagined it would!
The Yacht Club was all she had imagined as well. She arrived early to be safe. The hostess was expecting her, and seated her at a table with a view of the lake. Momentarily the hostess returned with two men, the first of whom introduced himself as Mortimer, who then introduced her to Walter.
Mortimer was, well..... the name seemed to fit him well. But Walter, now Walter was exactly what she would expect at a Yacht Club. White pants, a dark blue double breasted blazer with a lighter blue broadcloth button down shirt, and a sailing cap perched jauntily atop his head. She had read trashy novels where dashing men were described like that, but this Walter gave a whole new meaning to the phrase. She made a mental note to buy more trashy novels.
Mortimer explained that Walter was a retired Naval Officer, who kept his love of sailing alive by keeping a small boat on Mid Cities Lake. As Walter was telling a story from his sailing days at sea, Mortimer received a call, but was courteous enough to move away from the table to talk. He returned shortly to explain that he regrettably must leave, and begged Mindi to forgive his rudness in leaving her alone with Walter. She tried to mask her disappointment at his departure.
Mortimer hurriedly said good bye, and Walter took the chair next to Mindi. Their knees touched and their eyes met as he continued. His story was interesting, but his Clark Gable mustache and emerald eyes were even more so. His voice was perfectly suited for this, rising and falling at just the right times. She began to feel as if they were alone, and that she was hearing this tale on a deserted South Pacific beach somewhere. Her eyes were riveted on him.
From somewhere off in the distance a noise began to distract her. Soon the noise was gradually becoming louder, and then it began to irritate her. She could see Walter's lips move, but his voice was lost to her. She turned over her shoulder to see if she could locate the noise, and stop it before her perfect evening was completely ruined. Unable to locate the source, she looked closer.
As she stared at her alarm clock, she realized it was all just a dream. She slapped the clock off the night stand in an effort to shut it off, and threw the covers over her head.
"Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!", she shrieked, "there is no Walter".
"But there probably really is a Mortimer".
The saga of our new friend Mindi will be continued.