THE ASTROMATES... Chapter 4...Part 2.

A continuation of my story.

Nope, Alexo had me beat again, spinning off on his own and losing me within the conversation. In many respects, I was quite happy to be blessed with such ignorance, it saved my brain from having too much to do.
"Go on." I said airily.
"All I can tell you is your next date will be a female Peter Pan, always following her shadow."
He withdrew the familiar folder from the desk draw and opened it up.
"Her name is Debbie Hawkins. She’s forty-five. Divorced with two children, one of each, although both have left home now…"
"Whoa, Alexo"
I stopped him in mid-sentence.
"Just stop where you are and roll back a bit. Well, start from the Debbie bit and get on to the age of this woman."
I cupped my hand to my ear as if deaf.
"For a minute there, I thought you said forty-five years old!"
"That’s what I said." replied Alexo quite willing to carry on.
"Now just a bleeding minute, matey. I know I’m hard up but you can’t seriously expect me to go out with a wrinkly, can you?"
"Wrinkly? Wrinkly, old chap?" said Alexo as if in shock. "This lady is only ten years older than you. She more than likely knows the same songs as you. She can more than likely walk without the aid of a Zimmer-frame!"
"But she’s old." I insisted
Alexo fixed me with a baleful eye.
"When’s the last time you were hard up?" he enquired.
I got the drift of his pun and admitted some length of time.
"Did I tell you the Gemini female looks and acts well beyond her years? Just look at the good points, my friend. A lonely woman. No old man to worry about. No kids to spoil the fun and, to top it all, both of you can act like a couple of kids, with her doing all the talking."
Alexo had this way about him, a way of filling you with total enthusiasm for the job in hand. I became enthused, even animated at the prospect.
"There’s many a good tune played on an old fiddle." I quoted, my mind stretching to bedroom scenes.
"And the drum-skin might be a bit slack but it still takes a mighty big stick to beat it!" said Alexo off the top of his head.
"What are you on about? You should quit while you’re ahead." I said.
"So you’re game then?"
I assured him I was and demanded the meeting arrangements.
"You’re not going to like this." said Alexo, not looking me in the eye, which caused the nervous system to jangle. He carried on.
"I’ve spoken to Debbie on the phone and she wants to meet you outside McDonalds in the High Street at half-seven on Sunday night."
"McDonalds? That’s where the kids go." I bleated.
Alexo hushed me up.
"I told you she was young-minded. I don’t expect you’ll be spending the whole evening there, will you?"
"I bleeding hope not." I replied.
"Just a word of caution, old chap. This girl has a good knowledge of Astrology so it’s best to let her think you’re somewhat ignorant of the art. She’ll be glad to give you her insights. Just let her talk. As I said earlier; while the Gemini lady is talking, her mind is busy. And a busy woman is a…?"
"Happy woman." I finished.
Alex informed me that Debbie would be wearing a gold wrap-round top, black skirt, gold handbag and blonde hair with streaks.
The Velcro wallet ripped open its flap and, with watchful eyes, I took the fifty-pound note, holding it up to the light (Much to the disgust of Alexo.), testing the water-mark before leaving. At least, I would have a couple of days rest before my next Herculean labour.

Sunday evening brought me surprise and some delight. I watched her for a while as she waited outside McDonalds, watched as she eyed each approaching male with expectation. To be honest, I had arrived a bit late, so I could spy on her before I put my best foot forward. Well, let’s face it, if she’d have been an old dog with a face too far gone for a face-lift, I would have been off down the road before you could say ‘Dunkies’!
But, believe you me, she was some kind of woman. Oh, lucky, lucky me! Stepping out from the doorway, I moved off to meet her. Was I what she expected? I don’t know but as I approached with arms outstretched, she was off her starting blocks like a supreme racer, running into my arms.
"Richard?" she asked with a voice like an excited child.
I only had time to admit it was I, when, kissing me quickly on the cheek, she gripped my arm and pulled me into the opening jaws of McDonalds.
"I’ll have a Double Whammy and fries with a coke, please Richard. I’ll be sitting over there." she said, pointing to a table.
I had to admit she really was in good nick considering her age. I would never have guessed she was nearing Bus-Pass time. I looked back to assure myself she was real. She waved and grinned cheekily, eyes dark and bright as any sparrows. I waved back at her, knowing she was there to be seen and to see.
"I like those streaks in your hair." I said, coming back to the table.
She giggled as she tossed the long blonde locks so the blue streaks shone under the lights.
"There’s nothing a good old bottle of dye and a bit of lippy wont do." she replied, taking the food from the tray and setting it out.
She ate fast. Not like a pig, mind you. She ate at my speed, the speed of one who likes to feel a stomach bloating up. She talked as she ate, something I was never able to do. I liked to taste my food. I needn’t have bothered about saying a word, simply because she asked questions and answered them for me.
"What Sun-Sign are you?… A Cancer, right?… You look like you could do with some mothering. What Ascendant are you?… Libra, right?… You’ve got a Libran smile."
I let her ramble on, only having time to admit, while I did have some interest in Astrology, my knowledge was very limited. This fact was to her favour as she versed me in every aspect of the subject. I just kept nodding my wise-nod each time she stopped for breath. She still kept up the one-sided conversation as we stepped out into the street. Debbie was very tactile, touching and caressing with every sentence. She bubbled with mirth, eying me with those sparrow-like eyes of hers, even laughing out loud when I happened to mention she looked rather like a slimmed-down version of Debbie Harry (That laugh nearly got my condoms jerking out of my jacket and I pressed the pocket tight to keep them secure!).
Tonight was my night! I knew it, Debbie knew it, the whole damned world knew it!

"Which is your car, Richard?" she asked, her eyes seeking its destination.
I admitted I didn’t drive.
"Lucky I’ve got mine then." she laughed, pulling me along until we reached a somewhat beaten-up old Fiesta.
"Here’s my old girl." she giggled, giving the bonnet a gentle tap.
It wasn’t until we were into traffic that I managed to stop her talking.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"To the ‘Aces Over Twenty-Five Club’. It’s a singles bar for us old oldies, the old ‘Mutton dressed as lamb’ club."
I became a bit dubious about this. I’ve heard it said by some that these clubs were classified as ‘Meat Markets’, a lot of the women being married and/or just looking for one-night stands. Not that I’m against it, you understand, as long as one could stand the one night! Alexo had admitted to me he’d once belonged to such a club. He’d told me the first question a woman asked you was… "What do you work at?" Your answer was the key to your destiny. If you worked in a professional capacity, or qualified in some way, this indicated a decent income, which paved the way for a slap-up meal at some posh restaurant, with afters back at home, or whatever. However, if you admitted to being a skilled tradesman (Carpenters being the most prized!), you were liable to be dragged off to the lady’s’ den without as much as a bye-your-leave. There was always work to be done in a single or divorced woman's’ home and a ‘Bunk-up’ was cheap at the price! Mind you, Alexo had also stated this idea was fast becoming outmoded, seeing as women found it more decent and satisfying to attend training courses, doing their own jobs, affording them time to please themselves with a tuned-up d***o.
We continued through darkening streets, Debbie driving and speaking with non-stop aggression, skipping through red lights as if they were non-existent.