Susan, Life in the Boomer Lane’s Sex-and-the-Sixty-Year-Old muse, decided to attend a single’s dance last weekend, given by a local DJ. He bills his dances as “The Fun Bunch,” which may be some indication of what one is in store for. The dance was held at a local Elk’s Club, another tip-off of what might be in store.
Not to be deterred, Susan coerced a friend to come along. Susan spent a lot of time getting ready, then sprayed herself with pheromones. For those of you who come to this site to be educated along with being amused, pheromones are “chemicals that are secreted in our sweat and other bodily fluids that are believed to influence the behavior of the opposite sex, such as triggering sexual interest and excitement.” They are sold as additives in cologne, in perfume, in body lotion, in pure spray form, and in pancake mix. In addition to being used by horny adults, they are also used by bees as a way to communicate with each other.
The big night arrived. Susan and her friend started by going to a restaurant and having a glass of wine. Thus fortified, they drove to the Elk’s Club. They sat in the parking lot in order to assess the attendees as they arrived. The only other car was parked at the opposite end of the lot. All Susan could tell was that the occupant was male. This was a good start. A bee appeared at the driver’s window, but the window was up, so Susan wasn’t worried.
Within some minutes, others car started pulling up. People got out and appeared ambulatory. Another good sign. They made it to the front door of the Elk’s Club without stopping to rest. Still good. The original male stayed in his car. Apparently, he was also assessing the situation. By now, several bees were buzzing at Susan’s window. She was starting to get concerned.
Susan’s friend was also assessing those who were arriving, and she announced that she wanted to leave. She also asked Susan if she was aware that a small swarm of bees seemed intent on getting into the car. Susan, still feeling the effects of the wine, had a definite buzz on, both figuratively and literally. She implored her friend to give it more time. By now, she was staking all of her hopes and dreams on the occupant of the car across the lot. Several bees were now trying to squeeze themselves between the window and the car frame.
More people trickled in. Several wore dancing shoes. Several were couples. At least one had an oxygen pack with him. Some of the cars people drove were even older than the drivers. Susan’s hopes were rapidly fading. Her friend now demanded to leave. Susan told her she couldn’t hear her because the buzzing was too loud.
From across the parking lot, a driver’s door opened. Susan squinted in order to try to get a better look at the man she was sure would be her soul mate. She mentally reviewed their upcoming relationship and deemed it all good. As he got closer, something about him started to look familiar. Too familiar. He came a bit closer, and sure enough, it was her ex-husband. Susan ducked down under the dashboard so that he wouldn’t see her as he walked past her car. She started the engine as soon as he disappeared inside, and she peeled out of the parking lot, followed by the entire hive. By the time she got home, only a few bees remained, bravely clinging to her windshield wipers.