Praying With Midge

I first met her when I was only fifty-six. I was in the malt shop carrying a banana when she crept in. She was wearing a yellow towel, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her pinky, but I pretended not to notice.

I was about to set the banana down when she sidled beside me. I guess she startled me, and I clumsily dropped the banana right by her feet. We both bent over to pick it up. It was one of those awkward moments, and we both began to pray.

After stumbling apologies, I asked her to go to the sandwich shop for a shot of bourbon. She accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.

At the sandwich shop, I learned that her name was Midge, and that she was an invalid. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a pediatrician.

I guess it was love at first pray. Some might say we had floppy disks in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. She was sixteen years older than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still praying for each other.