The Single Life: You — gasp — as the main attraction

Hello and welcome to our group, (your name here). Tell us a little about yourself.

Six words. Six words dropped in your lap. Six words that you were not expecting and six words that make you stand up and say something.

Your mind races, your eyes blink back at the other hundred eyeballs headed your way — double that to include the ears.

(We are now inside your brain.) Ohmygoodness, I haven’t had to do this in years ... and what did I say the last time? That was before my kids were grown. I can’t remember a thing. How do I look? I knew I should have worn better fitting clothes. What about my shoes? Is my hair a general mess, or did I at least I run a comb through it before leaving the house? If I stand, will my stomach show, did I wear any lipstick/did I shave?

(Brain continues) This is silly. I’m just here to mix and mingle and who cares anyway? Um, I do, says the brain. You were invited to this event by your good friend who said that you need to get out of the house more and join something and so you made the phone call and put yourself on the RSVP list and now you have shown up on time, for a change, you Ninny.

(Final brain speak) What about my gray hair? I did notice that there were other people with gray hair. But then there are others who have more hair than I do. I’ve got to start keeping better track of the back of my hair. I can’t see it, but now lots of eyes can. I have to keep this short, so what should I say?) At this point the brain is worn out and goes off to do whatever brains do during down time. Now you are on your own.

This dialogue has gone on for maybe two seconds, which is enough time to spin the inside of you into pudding. Six words. You stand to face the eyeballs, the ears and instantly remember your mother’s words — posture, shoulders back, jaw up and smile.

You stand slowly, put down whatever was in your hands and face the music.

(With literary license, I now make you part of the listening audience. The following examples are the result of those six words.)

Well, wow, hello to you all. My name is Suzzie — with two zs, and I was first runner-up to the 1960 Playmate of the Year. I did several television commercials and wrote a book about my life as a Bunny. I have been married a few times and have 16 children and 36 grandchildren and am in the running for Mrs. Senior America. I love quiet walks on the beach and owls. Thank you.

Or...

Hello. My name is Dr. Feltwell. I am a retired brain surgeon. My passion is golf.

Or...

Hi. My name is Lizzy and my mate passed on several years ago. Since then, I have climbed Mount Everest in tennis shoes, broken all senior triathlon records and like to look for wildlife after dark. I am writing a book on the history of the ax.

Or...

Hey. This really looks like a totally awesome group of grown-ups. I mean totally cool. You all rock! It’s like you all can feel my vibes, if you know what I mean. My wife left me and so I’ve married a gnarly blonde with the biggest, well, let’s just say “rack.” Both of us are on welfare, but we’ve earned that money, so my motto is to have one bitchin’ time.

Or, finally.

Hello. My name is Mary Ann, and I’m an investigative reporter. I am married to the mysterious Basil St. John. I know where all of you live, and I am on a first name basis with the head of the FBI. This certainly looks like a age-biased group, and I’m afraid that you are all under arrest. Only kidding. I love cats.

Mary Ann Linforth is a Green Valley freelance writer. Contact her at maryannlinforth@aol.com.