To Talk With A Woman
The old men that come into the lab often don't want a reprint, or an roll of film developed. They come in to speak with the counter help. When Marilyn worked here, she had a group of regulars, men about her age (other side of fifty) or older, who walked in, bent and aged, but upon seeing her grew in stature and aged in reverse. They came in to talk to a woman. And they still do. To talk to a woman, and have her respond, as if they were on a date, and the cruelty of their passing years was forgotten. Then they leave, perhaps to go to the fast-food restaurant down the street, and engage in the same routine, paid for with a cup of coffee. The old men are still boys inside, and still have the hope of finding a new love, a secret love, it gives them a reason to live. If there was no hope, no belief in a benevolent feminine principle, all would be lost.
I am an old man.