The Point

by Amy on October 9, 2011 · 2 comments

There’s a certain point at the end of the first four miles into my favorite hike, a point at the crest of the long and winding path, a perch, if you will. At this particular point rests a bench dedicated to someone who once loved this park as much as I do, a bench I’ve come to consider my own personal reward, a resting place, a delicious pause at the top, to look down at what I’ve accomplished, and at the pretty view, too, for a luxuriously meditative moment just before I descend in a mad sprint one mile down and back to my truck. This hilltop point is a particularly grand spectacle right now, as the reds and yellows and oranges of autumn make the trip and the view extra worth it.

What is my point, you ask? Patience, my friend. We’ll come to it in a minute.

I think about the point periodically as I climb those four miles, like it’s a chocolate chip cookie or a tall glass of lemonade.  Not quite that spectacular, I suppose, but, then, what could be as spectacular as a chocolate chip cookie?

As I climb I think about other things in between thinking about the point (and my weary limbs). Today, for instance, I wonder as I pass each male hiker/runner/biker whether he’s the guy who winked at me on Match.com this morning. Not because I’m crazy or bored but because he wrote: “My favorite place in the city is Percy Warner Park.”

Maybe that’s him, I think as a bearded fellow runs past.

The bearded fellow gives me nary a glance but just keeps running like I don’t exist, even though I’m wearing my sexiest pair of Kelly green running shorts.

I hope that wasn’t him.

According to the good folks at Match about this potential mate who winked at me this fine day, “Gardening is something we both enjoy.” And as if that weren’t uncanny enough, one of his “Favorite Things” is “settling down on the couch knowing that my new book is waiting for me.” Me, too!

And did you know that “[w]hen it comes to [his] free time, it’s best spent in the kitchen cooking up a new recipe or catching a good movie over in Green Hills”? I mean, he could be describing moi. Also, he spends “a lot of time reading and writing and people watching…” It’s settled. We’re a match made in heaven.

But don’t you know it, there’s always a catch. This particular Match specimen is all of 31 years old. Nothing wrong with that, unless you’re 39 (and a half). He’s a puppy. A guppy. A baby. He even has a baby face. And we all know how the whole Demi-Ashton thing is turning out.

But boy, would that bench at the top of the point feel good right about now. Or a chocolate chip cookie.

So I’m torn as to whether to acknowledge his existence and…gasp…wink back. This is a big decision. A decision best made in meditative mode on a park bench perched at the point. Which should be arriving…

Just…

About (huff, puff)…

Now.

Um, except, who’s that sitting on MY bench?

Damned if it isn’t a couple. A loving couple at that, not even one bickering or fighting like cats and dogs. In fact, the couple is clearly in love, the man’s ear practically touching the woman’s shoulder while he gazes at her with…blech…tenderness, and she giggles softly in return, like I’m NOT EVEN THERE.

At MY point, mind you! On MY bench! The one reserved FOR ME. Didn’t they notice the sign carved into the wood with a stick? “Amy was here.”

Exhausted by now and most deserving of a rest and a gaze at the glorious batch of colored leaves over yonder (if only the annoying couple would get their fat heads out of the way so I could see), I have no choice but to…

Carry on and start my sprint down the hill.

Hell yes am I going to wink back at that 31-year-old. I might even dare to email him. Or ask him to coffee. Or for a walk in the park (after I satisfy myself that he’s not a serial killer). It’s high time I dethroned the fat-headed park-bench-hogging couples in the world with a little coupling up of my own. Two is better than one, at least when it comes to claiming the most coveted bench in the park.

Do you see my point?

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Marge Everhart October 9, 2011 at 7:39 pm

I see your point. Great article.

Adina October 9, 2011 at 10:20 pm

Excellent point! I recommended this on Facebook, and wrote as follows: Life is really too short to be so picky about age…I think these differences are fine as long as the guy’s not old enough to be your dad, or young enough to be your son!

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