The Golden Girls

They were not the original television cast, but they really were Golden Girls, serious and concentrating. 

Bill York

 At McDonald’s in Dacula, in a window booth.

On our way to Kroger my wife Dot, and I stopped in for a sandwich.

We headed for a window booth adjacent to a booth occupied by four ladies. I have never seen anyone playing cards in McDonald’s, but there they were.

Still curious at age 91 I glanced over the back of my seat. I studied the cards.

One Golden Girl looked up and smiled. 

“We’re playing Canadian Canasta,” she said.

Wobbling, as I do at my age, I went over to their booth.

“I played Canasta in the navy,” I said. My jacket was monogrammed NAVY WWII.

One lady glanced up at me, “I was in the Navy in WWII. I was a nurse.”

After my 3rd stroke and no longer able to do the vigorous stuff, I have conceived a method to entertain myself.

“I think I dated you in the navy,” I said, as I stared into her eyes.

The other ladies began to giggle. They now knew a secret about their friend.

The Navy nurse was nearest to me. She held out her hand. “How old are you?” she said.

I took her hand. “I’m 91.”

“I’ll be 94 soon.”

“I really lusted for mature girls.”

“Ooh, she never mentioned this one,” one of the ladies giggled.

She squinted at me. “I don’t remember you,” she said.

“Where were you stationed?”

“I was in Jacksonville a long time.”

“I knew it! I had just come back from the Mediterranean, and I was stationed in Green Cove Springs on the St. Johns River. We went to the beach. I remember a wonderful weekend.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You said you would never forget me!”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“So am I, I often think about it. We had a great time.”

More knowing grins.

My wife stared out the window. She knew my nonsense would end eventually.

The Golden Girls meet two times each week a little after lunch so no one would complain about them hijacking the booth.

One of them went to place an order and then spoke to my wife.

”Did he really date her?”

“I don’t know; I wasn’t there.”

“He sounds serious?”

“He is some of the time.” She explained to the woman that during our forty-five years together she found me frequently weird but harmless.

Dot and I figured we had made some friends and we planned on coming back to McDonald’s sometime when the Golden Girls were there.

I tried to remember how to play canasta. I wondered if I could be a sub sometime when one of them couldn’t make it.

My fish sandwich was cold.

As we drove away, I wondered what it would have been like to have dated the nurse. I can imagine. 

Bill is a WW II Navy veteran and retired President of York Furs in Buckhead. You can contact him by email at Sioux2222@gmail.com

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