Love story

The 73-year-old woman, just married for the second time was eager to talk about her new husband, Jay…

“My late husband and I used to spend time with Jay and his late wife. We went out to dinner as couples and spent time at the yacht club together.”

“His wife died about six years ago, and then my husband died about two years later. Jay and I started spending some time together, you know, just as companions.” And she’s very clear about this… “He was just someone to go to dinner with.” (Just two people sharing a meal. Nothing to see here folks. Move along.)

“But then,” she said, blushing and looking down at her lap with a little grin, “well…” she whispered, “a deeper affection developed.” (Translation: I let him touch my booby.)

“I took him on vacation to the Carolinas for a few weeks. You know, just to sort of try it out. I needed to see if I was going to feel smothered with him around all the time, and I wanted to show him around to my friends. We had a very nice time, so I decided I would marry him.” (New state motto: The Carolinas, come for a test run.)

“We got married in Florida a few weeks ago,” she said, holding out her newly adorned ring finger. “We didn’t tell anyone we were going to do it. The next day, I sent out announcements to all of our friends. I told them we’d meet them at the yacht club for a party when we were done in Florida.” (Yes…you read that right. She said done.)

“Oh, and…” she’s careful to add, “his late wife trained him really well. He always picks up his socks.” (After I tear them off in the throws of passion.)