This morning I received a call from a man whose voice I did not recognize. “Is this my lady friend?” he asked. “I don’t know…possibly,” I replied cautiously. I was hoping to tune in to the voice and identify the person behind it, but what was running through my mind was that a “suitor” was disguising his voice to pull one over on me. Others had tried, unsuccessfully. But maybe that just gives them incentive to try harder. “I’m thinking about shaving my head,” he said, “like a cue-ball.” I was still rummaging through my head to think who would have the audacity to call so early in the morning, not even nine o’clock for God’s sake. I drew a blank.“So, whaddaya think?” he said. “I’m not sure you have the right person, who are you trying to reach?,” fishing for an answer to quench my puzzlement. Silence. And then, “May I ask who’s calling?” He glossed over my questions. “So whaddaya think? Would you like it? Will you boycott me when my shining head blinds you?” This was too much, it had to be a joke, but maybe it wasn’t. Then, he called me Jean. I was in over my head at this point and decided to play along, as he obviously didn’t care who he was talking to. Then, it dawned on me. He was both hard of hearing and had dementia. Perfect. If I was looking for some early morning entertainment, I got it. Better than Good Morning America any day.
“So, will you still like me if I shave my head like a cue-ball?” repeating the same question over and over again." It doesn’t matter if I will like it, it matters if you will like it. What do you want to do?," I said, throwing the ball back in his court. “I guess so. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna do it today. “I’ll see you at 11, then,” he said in parting, “but 11 is a long, long time away from now, isn’t it?”
Eleven, I thought to myself. I’d better get the house ready in case he shows up at 11. I’ll be Jean and invite him in for tea.
