my girl...

There seems to be some confusion on who fancies who at the LaSolana pool:

"I saw your girl with her new guy today. They were riding bikes along Mountain View. You should see this bozo she is with now. She dumped you for a total tool."

Gino's confusion is innocent enough. It's humorous to be honest with you.

"Gino, for goodness sake. She is not my girl. You are the one who has eyes for her. Why do you keep saying she's my girl?"

A certain lady in a string bikini turns heads at the pool. I'll say 'hi' to her when she is there. That is the extent of our relationship. However, I made a suggestive remark one day when both of us were gawking at her. He won't let me forget it.

"That's what you told me. Those were you're exact words. You said, 'that's my girl' and motioned in her direction."

I play along for the hell of it.

"Okay Gino, you got me. She is my girl, not a full time thing though. If she wants to strut her stuff with another fella. Who am I to say no? I'm not the jealous type."

"Really," he says with a surprising gaze, "You don't mind that she is stepping out on you with another guy. I would be mad as hell."

I extend the farce more.

"You got me again Gino, I'm supposed to meet her at the hotel around the corner at nine. She says she is going to make it up to me."

"What the hell are you going to do at a hotel?"

"We're not going to play tiddly winks; that much is for sure."

A wide smile comes to his tan face after my proclamation; even at eighty eight it's still the first thing on a man's mind.

"You are a lucky guy. I wish I could take your place."

"If it is fiction you can say whatever you want," is my continuing thought.

"Gino, I'm just joking about meeting her at the hotel. She's actually coming over to my place tonight and I'm fixing her dinner. You know what desert is going to be," directing a wink and nod in his direction.

"Really," he says with a tone of jealousy.

"No, not really. It's a pleasant thought though."