Cupid checks out

September 20, 1996|By Joe Murray

ANGELINA COUNTY, Texas -- A geezer told this story. And geezers don't lie.

He was doing the grocery shopping for his wife. Nowadays it's something married geezers like to do.

Along with bread and milk, this and that, he decided to buy his wife a bouquet of flowers. Geezer that he is, he's amazed that grocery stores sell flowers.

He pushed his buggy to the checkout line and waited his turn. As he reached the cash register, he couldn't help but notice that the young woman, what geezers call a girl, had the prettiest smile for her customers.

What he overheard

He couldn't help but overhear, too, what she said to the young fellow sacking the groceries.

''Can I cry now?'' she asked.

The geezer couldn't believe his ears, not all that unusual for geezers, except that he was sure he had heard her correctly.

''What in the world,'' he had to ask, ''do you have to cry about?''

She was standing on her tiptoes, pretty as you please, scanning the other checkout lines.

''Her boyfriend broke up with her,'' the sacker said, answering for her.

''He's gone on his coffee break,'' she said to the sacker. ''Can I cry now?''

The sacker shook his head, disgusted.

''He's the best-looking thing you've ever seen,'' she said, turning to the geezer, her lip quivering.

''A pretty girl like you,'' the geezer said, trying to make her smile again, ''will have no trouble finding a better-looking fellow.'' Then he added for good measure, ''With more money and a nicer car.''

Even in the morning

''I don't think so,'' she said, her mouth turning down again. ''He's soooo good-looking. He even looks good when he wakes up in the morning.''

At this the geezer, being a geezer, winced.

''I'd bet your next boyfriend will make him look like a wet dog,'' he growled. She almost smiled at that. ''Besides, he sounds like somebody who thinks he's good-looking.''

''Oh, he does,'' she said, all but swooning. ''He doesn't think it. He knows it. When he's driving his car, he'll fix the mirror so he can look at himself.''

The geezer harrumphed, as geezers do. ''Sounds to me like he might be a sissy boy.''

''That's not a nice thing to say,'' she frowned. But the sacker was smiling and nodding.

''Shoot fire,'' said the geezer, ''I don't think he's so nice himself, or he wouldn't have broken up with you.''

''Oh, he can have anybody he wants,'' she said, sighing. ''He could have the prettiest, sweetest girl there is.''

An act of folly

''I'd say he had the prettiest, sweetest girl there is,'' the geezer allowed, ''and the fool broke up with her.''

The sacker, sighing himself, nodded again.

It was then that the geezer, remembering how it was before he was a geezer, understood more than the girl did about who really loved her.

The geezer, being a geezer, could only do so much. But he did what he could.

''Here,'' he said, handing her the flowers, ''these are for you.''

Her eyes widened. Her mouth made a surprised, silent ''Oh!''

''You tell that sissy boy those are from a secret admirer,'' he said, talking to her but looking at the sacker.

And when he left, he left her smiling.

Joe Murray, editor-publisher emeritus of the Lufkin (Texas) Daily News, is senior writer for Cox Newspapers.

Pub Date: 9/20/96

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