“I’m celebrating my 68th wedding anniversary,” he said. “I was the quarterback and she was the cheerleader.”

He was talking to me, and then he would stop, mid-sentence—like his tongue was trapped in a vice.

“I have Alzheimer’s,” he said. “I’m 80 years old.”

“Well—it hasn’t effected your golf game any,” I said.

When I told my dad this story, he did the math, and let me know, the man must’ve gotten married at 12.

“Maybe it was 58, instead of 68,” I said. “He was probably confused, or a really good liar—most golfers are.”

The old golfer asked me more questions…

“Have you started a family yet?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not even married.”

“It’s difficult to find somebody, especially today.”

“Yeah—people don’t believe in God anymore.”

“Are you a Republican?”

“I’m a Libertarian.”

I was asked the same question by an 80-year-old man, two summers ago.

My life hasn’t changed.

I remember when the guys on the golf course asked me about college. Now they ask me if I have kids.

“Are you a teacher?”

“I work with teachers.” Is it how I talk? I wondered.

I have become like the people I work with.

I was at a wedding, that same day.

A girl I dated two years ago was seated at my table.

She just got married, to the guy she met, right after me.

The bride was in the same situation, except, she was dating the groom and me at the same time.

Women are subtle.

You can never know what is going through their minds.

The bride knew this girl I dated, and she was not too happy it didn’t work-out between us.

She also planned the seating charts.

Was it a coincidence?

Or just my imagination?

I will never know.

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