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Went to restorer's to pick up my UPS packages.  Only in our town would the delivery guys drop your stuff at someone else's if it needs a signature.  Sticky note on door tells you where it is.  If it doesn't require a signature it goes on your kitchen counter.  I never lock my doors.  When I had cancer and had just moved here, someone came in and stocked the refrigerator.  It's just that kind of place.

Anyhow, Mr. chatty cathy, my introducer and sometimes carrier pigeon, filled me in on the he saids (he being my almost-real imaginary boyfriend).  He was going to come up to the shop to check on one of his cars and "had some other things to do in PA".  Preferable do me. I hope not 5'10", 110 pounds, 23 and gorgeous instead. I just don't get it.

Chatty thinks he's nervous.  Guys are that way too, he said.  It never crossed my mind that my age would be a formidable asset and not a dreadful circumstance.  As you know, he keeps on doing the credentials thing, which I think is a male thing and maybe an age thing.  At that point in life, they're still becoming what they are going to be, and the accomplishments are important to them.  For goodness sake, I thought we had established that he's smart, I'm smart, he's accomplished, I'm accomplished, he's rich, I'm rich, and that was that.

Is there still hope?  Not counting on it.  Besides, I'm going to hit the road soon.