Every Thursday afternoon, Betty, Dorothy, and June claimed the same park bench in a small Florida town.
Betty, 74, was widowed and ready to mingle.
Dorothy, 76, was divorced and ready to negotiate.
June, 78, was still married and described herself as “eligible for parole.”
That afternoon, Betty arrived wearing bright red lipstick.
Dorothy examined her. “Well, somebody’s expecting company.”
“I’m keeping my options open,” Betty said.
June adjusted her sunglasses. “At our age, honey, keeping anything open requires a prescription.”
Before Betty could answer, a handsome older gentleman walked past them. Silver hair, neat polo shirt, straight shoulders—and, most impressively, he stood up from a nearby bench without making a single noise.
All three women watched.
Dorothy leaned forward. “Did you see that?”
Betty nodded. “No groaning.”
“No knee cracking,” Dorothy added.
June lowered her sunglasses. “Either he’s rich, or those are somebody else’s knees.”
The gentleman caught them looking and smiled.
“Beautiful afternoon, ladies.”
Betty slid her handbag off the bench.
“Even better now. There’s room right here.”
He sat down and introduced himself as Frank.
Dorothy wasted no time.
“Frank, we’re old enough to skip the small talk. Do you own your home?”
“Yes.”
“Car?”
“Yes.”
“Can you drive after dark?”
“Yes.”
Betty whispered, “Dorothy, this is a conversation, not a mortgage application.”
Dorothy ignored her.
“Any gambling problems?”
“No.”
“Drinking problems?”
“Only deciding which wine to order.”
Betty straightened her blouse.
“You order wine?”
“Certainly.”
“In a restaurant?”
“Yes.”
“Where you sit down and somebody brings it?”
Frank looked puzzled. “Usually.”
June sighed. “My husband considers taking me out to dinner a drive through with the engine switched off.”
Betty turned toward Frank.
“Do you dance?”
“A little.”
“Cook?”
“Quite well.”
“Remember birthdays?”
“Every year.”
Dorothy grabbed Betty’s wrist.
“Don’t make any sudden movements. We’ll frighten him away.”
Frank chuckled.
“You ladies are very entertaining.”
“And you,” Betty said, “are getting dangerously close to being invited to my house.”
June leaned in.
“One final question. Can you listen to a woman talk without interrupting her?”
Frank nodded.
“For hours.”
The women fell silent.
Then Dorothy whispered, “Check his pulse. This could be a memorial statue.”
Just then, an elegant older woman approached carrying two coffees.
“There you are, Frank!”
She handed him a cup and smiled at the three women.
“I see you’ve met my husband.”
Betty’s smile collapsed.
Dorothy released her wrist.
June muttered, “Of course. The good ones always come with paperwork.”
The woman laughed.
“Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Everything he told you is true. He cooks, dances, remembers birthdays, and listens beautifully.”
Betty folded her arms. “Well, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” the woman said. “We’ve been married fifty-two years.”
Dorothy shook her head. “And you’re still letting him wander around looking like that?”
“Certainly. Every Thursday I leave him here while I go shopping.”
June stared at her.
“You leave that man unattended?”
The woman took a sip of coffee.
“Ladies, after fifty-two years, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
She pointed toward the shopping bags beside her.
“When I came back last week, two women had offered to cook him dinner, one had invited him dancing, and another had given him her phone number.”
Betty looked horrified.
“And you weren’t jealous?”
“Jealous?” the wife said. “I bought myself a new handbag.”
Dorothy frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
The wife smiled.
“For thirty years, whenever I bought something expensive, he’d say, ‘Do you know how many women would be happy to have me?’”
She picked up her shopping bags.
“Now I bring him here and tell him to get three quotes.”😂
