#3 Sam the Man

This is a true story...well, maybe it is and maybe it isn't. You can be the judge.

Sam was a player...always had been and always would be. At age 68, he was slim and trim, had startlingly white dental caps, and a comb-over he kept carefully and firmly sprayed to the top of his head. The bane of his existence was his height which only reached 5'5" when he stood very straight. But he was a ladies man...even if it was mainly in his own mind.

A deep intolerance of the cold had spurred him to relocate to sunny Florida when he retired. By luck and chance he'd found "Sand Crane Haven", a senior retirement park where he paid out cash money for a modest 30' trailer that became his new home.

Sand Crane Haven was a rather large trailer park with about 300 spick and span trailers spread over 100 acres of winding roads and sheltering trees. The current manager was a no nonsense man who tolerated no mess, no noise, and no kids to sully his beautiful park. His residents idolized him because they'd suffered through too many years of incompetent managers who had come before him.

Sam noticed that many of his neighbors travelled around the park in golf carts so he quickly purchased one of his own. Being Sam, his golf cart had to reflect his personality so he bought a shiny new black 4 seater with silver covers. His licence plate read "SAM THE MAN". Sam was a happy man.

Go to any senior park in Florida and you'll easily find it's heart. It's at the pool. From before noon till happy hour at 4 P.M. the pool is a hub of activity. Every table and chair is occupied by people or towels. The smell of suntan lotion overlays the odor of cigarette smoke...the smokers seem to congregate in one corner valiantly declaring their inalienable right to foul the air everyone else is breathing. Water bottles and carafes of undisclosed liquid sit sheltered under colorful umbrellas but no food is allowed...manager's orders.

Sam loved going to the pool. He was one of the few men with a flat tummy and the only man with the flair (or nerve) to wear a Speedo. Every morning at 11 A.M. he'd roar down to the pool in his cart. Fluffy blue towel draped nonchalantly over his bony shoulders and wearing one of his favorite Speedos, Sam would make what he considered his grand entrance into pool society. To be honest, he was always noticed but not for the reasons he thought.

Another quaint sight in senior pools is how they fill up with many separate conversation groups, the conversationalists strung in or on colorful floaties. Seniors rarely swim but use their pool as a hot tub to float around in and talk. Heaven help the park manager who fails to keep the water temperature warm enough to suit the soakers.

Sam had been a Sand Crane resident for more than a week so he'd had ample time to scope out the available females. The one who stirred the contents of his Speedo the most was Dorie. Dorie was tiny...Sam preferred his women to be smaller than he was...but she had a large bosom which appeared quite buoyant in the pool. She had dyed her hair a becoming shade of ash blonde which she believed took years off her age (72, but she told everyone she was 62). Sam was smitten.

One hot and sunny day, Sam made his pilgrimage to the pool intent on getting to know Dorie better. Upon entering the water he manoevered his floatie over to her group and deftly inserted himself next to her. The topic that day was how lucky the park was to have found their present manager

"Remember when Thompson was the manager?", said Mabel with a slight sneer to her mouth and a lift to her eye.

"We couldn't get him to do anything around here", Dorie responded. Everyone then began talking all at once denouncing the old manager and praising the new one. Sam, not caring one way or the other, just nodded his head in agreement and moved in as close to Dorie as possible.

Dorie was very aware of Sam's interest and, having been around the block a few times and experiencing a few suitors who actually made Sam look good, smiled encouragingly at him.

Nothing goes unnoticed at a senior park and Sam's tentative advances on Dorie was no exception. Knowing, elderly eyes followed their every move.

Mabel lived next door to Dorie and she was the first to spread the news about Sam's late night visits. Mabel claimed she was a night owl and that's how she'd spotted Sam's cart tucked under Dorie's carport. The truth was that she'd suffered some terrific leg cramps by crouching inside her bathtub so she could spy out the only window facing Dorie's trailer.

The two lovebirds were oblivious to the rampant gossip racing around the park about their personal love lifes. Neither noticed the eyes that followed them everywhere nor heard the catty whispers spoken behind strategically placed hands.

"They were at it again last night", said Mabel snidely. "He was at her place till after midnight, for heaven's sake!". Mabel was a little cranky because the cramps in her legs hadn't eased up much.

Her audience of coffee buddies shook their heads and muttered "Tsk, Tsk", as though sex among the elderly was just too lurid to imagine.

It was at the pool on day that Sam made a spectacle of himself...worse than at any other time. He drove up to the pool as usual but he had a little surprise for Dorie inside his Speedo. Just under the waistband was a tiny pocket that contained an engagement ring.

Making sure that there were plenty of people to witness the drama, he walked proudly up to Dorie who was sitting talking to friends and he dropped down on one knee in front of her.

Thinking he'd lost his balanceDorie jumped out of her chair to help him up. Sam looked up, startled, just in time to take her knee in his chin which knocked him flat on his back.

"Oh, my god, are you all right?", she yelped.

The blow had not only flattened Sam but had effectively loosened his dental caps and they slipped out into his hand.

Dorie stood before her boyfriend and began to see him in a different light. He looked awfully scrawny sprawled out on the deck, bony legs askew, comb-over hanging on the wrong side, and only little stubs for teeth.

Her concern turned gradually to dismay and then to embarrassment for this silly old man laying in front of her. She apologized repeatedly as she helped him to his feet and then distanced herself by going back and sitting on the far side of her friends.

Sam left the pool with a brave show of dignity and went home where he first phoned a dentist for an appointment and then drowned his sorrow in a large glass of whiskey...straight.

Within a few days the gossips had fresh news to spread. Sam had put a "For Sale" sign in front of his trailer and one on his golf cart. Sam had also stopped going to the pool.

A nice old couple from Michigan bought Sam's trailer, moved in before the month was up, and Sam left the park without saying goodbye to anyone.

Life goes on much the same these days at Sand Crane Haven. The social center is still at the pool but Dorie avoids any mention of Sam.

Sam has moved 150 miles further south to "Sunshine Estates" where he drives up to the pool every morning at 11 A.M. in his new bright red golf cart, wearing his trusty Speedo, and scopes out the available females.

Sam the man is a happy man once again.