Why I Should Not Stay in My Nightie
You never know who you’ll meet
It wasn’t quite as revealing as the one in the photo and nor did I look sexy. With my unbrushed hair and not a skerrick of makeup, I looked like I had just woken up. Which wasn’t true. I’d been up reading and editing for hours. But as I was opening my French doors and stepping outside, an attractive man was coming through my gate. He had seen me. Too late to run and hide or at least, brush my hair.
Damn! I’ve always said no one’s going to come knocking at my door, so I have to be proactive about dating. And here was an attractive man who did come “knocking at my door” and I wasn’t fit for public consumption. He was a gentleman and kept his eyes focussed on my face. He started chatting to me my oldest white nightie. It’s so old and the fabric is so thin it’s almost see-through but it’s the coolest most comfortable thing I have to wear to bed.
I kept him engaged in scintillating conversation. My brain had to make up for the lack of beauty.
He was there to talk politics. I must have impressed him with my non-political knowledge. He kept the brochures in his left hand so I couldn’t see if he wore a wedding ring. My guess would be yes.
He was good-looking, tall and articulate. His name is Stirling and he’s 5th generation Australian, just like me. Believe it or not, I didn’t mention travel! We chatted for ages until his political mate caught up with him and he noticed how long we’d been chatting.
I’ll be checking out the local voting booth on Election Day.