Sheilaclapkin's Blog;

Another story from Becky. The person who made the comment about getting Becky to sign a permission slip with a Notary in attendance has been requested.

This is the new dating development for Becky. Some former famous soccer player from Canada makes the 2 1/2 hour trip from Los Angeles to Palm Desert to meet her. She stays in her desert home when the weather is nice. It is a blind date, which will turn out to be the blind date from hell. He arrives bringing a wad of wrinkled clothes from the back seat of his silver Cadillac and tells her he will spend the night and then, asks where to put his things.

They sit and talk awhile. He is a miserable kind of person that she does not like, but decides to make the best of having dinner together and then, he can move his arse on out. They have dinner and things aren’t getting any better for Brcky. They return to her place and he is flipping through his wrinkled pile of clothes deciding on what would be best for lounging. B, gets a friend to call and she gets all dramatic. Her mother has fallen, a lie, she has to leave immediately to see about her mother, a lie, she gets out her suitcase, packs clothes, tells the famous soccer player to take his things and shoves him out of the door with her suitcase which she places in her trunk after she locks and seals the house up. She backs out of the driveway waving and shouting bye now. He stares after her. She drives around for 40 minutes, drives back home, pulls her car into the garage, takes out her suitcase, breaths a sigh of relief and never sees Mr. Has Been Soccer player, so far, again. What dramatics are going on in the dating world of my friend Becky? Let me tell you there is more. I will continue with Becky’s escapades tomorrow.

My Friend Becky Baker, Butler Bradley, soon to be Boyle!
My friend Becky Baker, Butler, Bradley, soon to be Boyle has decided to wait a few more months before marrying Boyle, because Browne, the one she really wants, has only been a widower for two weeks and he is too fresh. Even though Boyle wants her desperately in any way he can get her, she is going to wait for Browne.

Becky lost Mr. Butler and Mr. Bradley because of two totally different causes, but has this to say about each husband. She does not mind telling you that Mr. Butler was a thief. Mr. Bradley was immoral as well, but in a more covert way. Mr. Butler was out there and Mr. Bradley was hidden until the day he died and then, every little thing came dripping out before the coffin was even in the ground. Also, before the body was cold and the coffin was lowered, the mortician wanted Becky. He was as desperate for her as she is desperate for the fresh new widower she met a few days prior to Mr. Bradley’s demise.

Becky says yes, she will be delighted to join you and then, close, very close to the time you are to meet, she says she is too tired, too ill, too hot, too frustrated and or depressed, too poor, too busy, too conflicted or just any old excuse that doesn’t even always make sense. But then again, if you know Becky, it makes sense, well to her anyhow. She is not too tired, too ill, too hot, or too anything for the painter, the postman, the mortician, the Rabi and the businessman. She is sometimes fixated and obsessed with herself. It works for her. It gives her time to think. It gives her something to do. She has accepted a date with the mortician and they enjoy most of the day and a small part of the evening. The mortician leaves her at the front door, she is in the house freshening up for the postman, who knocks gently, five minutes later and is received strongly. They go off in his new Mercedes to the Greek Festival, just around the corner: they could have walked, but then how would the Mercedes have an opportunity to play its role. You see, the postman told her he is too poor for the likes of her, but the Mercedes does notify a different side to this poor postman. At least that is the way Becky sees it. Becky and the postman didn’t get it on this time, but there are hopes, desires and further attempts mainly in the heart of the postman.

The next afternoon after the double date for Becky, we attended a birthday party luncheon for a good friend of Becky’s. Becky invited me not out of love & respect, but out of being a ready and willing driver. I thought it would be nice to be with lots of ladies I barely knew. I sat quietly on the sidelines, listening, sipping my tea. A lady-sitting kiddy cornered across from me was prescribed Viagra for her stomach ailments. It was prescribed because it causes increased blood flow and it is hoped that increased blood flow to this woman’s organs would help with her ailments. You can imagine the questions that ensued. She dutifully answered all of the questions. Such as does it do anything for your sex-life? She just rolled her eyes up, winked coyly and smiled as the answer.

I also sat directly across from a gorgeous woman with amazing eyes. I actually photographed them. She had rotator cuff surgery and the physical therapy was too aggressive, so consequently they tore it again. She had to have the second surgery and more physical therapy.

The lady down the row who is too young for Alzheimer’s has it anyhow. She spent a great amount of time, frantically searching for her lost make up kit and her money!

The most messed up looking luncheon attendee brought up that she was retired and cleaning out her closet after thirty years of working. She stated that she had so many interview suits and couldn’t imagine every going on an interview. Becky piped up and stated that she needed them. Imagine Becky in an interview suit. Even if she did wear one, where was she planning to interview?

Another woman is a cancer survivor. Credit is due to a courageous fight. Actually she has had several bouts with cancer and successfully battled and won both times. She is amazing.

Another just lost her husband, but I did not get the cause. Another lady just turned 60 (the birthday girl) and was bemoaning the fact that all she got for her birthday from her live in boyfriend was a Mercedes I.O.U. Not the car because he did not know the color she would prefer. I chidingly said,” What else could you want?” And she said,” a wedding ring.” Oops.

The lady to the right side of me is recovering from hip replacement surgery and needs the other side replaced. She began to tell the story of how her mother spent the night in jail for domestic violence this passed weekend. The woman is 93 and her second or maybe third husband is a decade younger, but frail and recovering from cancer treatments. The 93 year old was tearing at the shirt of her one time beloved because he was taping their present fight, so he would have details with which to commit her to a mental institution leaving him with some peace in his dying state. She tore his shirt and scratched him during the scuffle. He called the police and they came to take away this 93 year old in handcuffs. By the time my friend got to the jail with the bail, her mother had made best friends with everyone in the jailhouse and my friend was told that she should be more understanding and listen more to her mother. Oh dear.

It is interesting because I do not know this group of ladies very well, just slightly at weddings etc. So this was my view and my observations limited and varied only as much as my familiarity and understanding allows. . They are all so nice and what I noticed about every one of them is that they have gorgeous smiles. Good orthodontists and dental hygienists at work.
Don’t know why I wrote this, but I did. I think I am trying to hide form my closets and some of my fears and anxieties. I am on my second bag for the Goodwill. I am going back to their next luncheon and then, it can be someone’s turn to write about me.