Cute and tall get together |

Cute and tall get together

I had lived here only two months when my first house guest and I went to hear the Power of Twelve at Cooper’s. I was dancing with a man I realized was stone drunk. He threw me around the dance and almost fell down, when I noticed a guy my age (60-ish) grinning at me from the bar. The drunken dancer mercifully lurched on to another victim, and there was Robert, buying my friend and me dozens of Calistogas and asking me about myself. The problem was, I was taller than he.

I admired his black hat, though, and thought he was a rancher because he said he had acreage outside of town. (Now I know that lots of folks have hats and acreage). Turns out he was an architect. He asked me out to the patio, amid the cat calls of his friends, and listened to me as I told him about myself, why I’d moved up here knowing no one and how I loved it here. The sweetest thing was that when I told him I was 60, he said, “That works fine; I’m 63. So you’re a high school freshman, and I’m a senior.”

After he walked us to my car and gave me his number, Erin said, “You should go out with him; he’s cute.”

“No,” I said, “I’m too tall for him.”

But I did. That was over a year ago, and you know what? He’s still cute, and I’m still tall!

– Sue Clark, Grass Valley

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