The early misty morning time I so loved, had cleared. The day turned beautiful, the warm early summer sun tempting me to linger, as I meandered lazily toward the entrance to the Green Market. Going there was like a throwback to what the Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco had been in it's hey day.

This cozy little Market exuded an almost magical exotic atmosphere. I enjoyed going there to check out all the beautiful sexy attractive females, looking so fresh and nicely turned out in their skimpy summer shorts, halters, or dainty provocative summer dresses. This was definitely a place where fantasies could be created for later recall.

Even some of the young attractive mothers had that vital sensuous look that verified their husbands were indeed lucky men. Ah, sweet fantasies, I would think as I gazed hungrily at the forbidden fruit that was off limits.

After partaking of that visual feast of delightful femininity, I finally stepped inside the cool air-conditioned entrance. Lazily I made my way over to the deli counter to make my purchase.

"A half pound of Scrimp Salad, please."

"Anything else?" the Deli clerk said, like he was doing me a favor. "That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it!" I said, getting a little annoyed at his mocking tone of voice. (It's not my fault folks—the guy was hostile!)

"If I was ordering something at twelve bucks a pound I couldn't afford to buy anything else either," he further taunted me, playing to his audience, the other two clerks loitering near by.

"Son," I laughed. "I really don't know how to tell you this; but, money is the least of my problems. Sorry to be such a disappoint to you."

Trying to salvage some of his ego, he needed to get in the last word.

"Yeah right, man! And other fantasies... !"

"Will you stop pestering the poor guy, and come over here and wait on me?" a vibrant little feminine voice, standing at my elbow, demanded.

"Don't mind him, Sir. He's just being his usual obnoxious self," she laughed. "He must have forgotten to take his anti-jerk pills this morning."

A few moments later, I found myself in the checkout line directly behind the cute smart mouthed girl who had just read the Deli clerk the riot act on my behalf.

She had bought a small container of cold Slaw. I watched as she dug around in her old purse trying to come up with the two dollars and change needed.

A moment later, she turned around and upon recognition, smiled in my direction.

"Hey! Thanks for sticking up for me over there," I said, with a little grin.

"Sir... , why do I get the idea that you didn't need anyone to stick up for you," she said with a little sardonic smile. "In fact," she laughed, "Come on; admit it—you took it easy on him.

"Aw... , he was just having a bad day," I laughed. "I didn't want to make it worse for the poor guy."

"That Scrimp salad really does look scrumptious," she said, her soft brown eyes lingering just a bit too long as she looked at the container I had just placed on the checkout counter.

I looked at her pretty face, her soft brown eyes, and her neat slender little figure. She was dressed very modest, in a white blouse that had seen better days, and a faded light blue summer skirt.

More delightful femininity, I thought. Wish I could take home an order of her. Or, maybe I'll just memorize what she looks like for a pleasant recall later.

She looked so neat and clean and well turned out. I picked up a light fragrant of cologne—I was secretly pleased when I identified it as coming from her.

When we exchanged glances, she modestly lowered her eyes. Made me wish I were 20 years younger. Maybe she'll let me adopt her, I thought laughing to myself at the prospect.

"To bad I can't give you a little bit of mine, and you could give me a little bit of yours, "I said, trying to be friendly.

Her brown eyes were suddenly alert. She was trying to read what I had meant by my last statement. Deciding I had meant nothing suggestive, she seemed to relax.

"Are you talking about sharing your Scrimp Salad and my Cold Slaw, or sharing something else?" she said, her brown eyes crinkling mischievously.

This delightful little Witch is teasing me! Surely, she can see, I'm so much older than she is, I thought.

(I ask you, have you ever met an older man that doesn't enjoy being teased by an attractive young woman.)

This girl may live in the Bible belt, but she's certainly no prude, I thought, laughing to myself. I couldn't help wondering what was behind all the teasing.

"Trust me," I laughed, "I was talking about sharing our food. I would never discuss sharing anything else, at least not in public."

"So... , what you're saying is, if we weren't in public, you might be willing to discuss it?" she teased, still not willing to let me off the hook.

"Well, not with a young woman that I haven't even met. I don't even know your name," I countered.

"You want to know my name? Okay... , my name is Becky," she said.

"Don't look now," I laughed, "But I think you're holding up the checkout line."

"Oh, sorry," she said to the clerk as she handed her the container.

Once I was back outside in the warm sunlight, I spotted her over near the entrance looking at the display of potted herb plants.

As I was preparing to walk by, she turning toward me and asked, "Do you know anything about growing Sweet Basil plants?"

"No, not a lot..." I said.

"I had some last year, and they did alright," she said. "Well, maybe I'll pick up a couple plants next payday."

"Here, hold on a minute," I said. "Let me buy a couple of them for you now. This way they'll have a head start, and will grow quicker."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Thank you, kind sir." she said, as I nodded yes.

"After all," I laughed. "I make it a practice to take care of those, who take care of me,"

I laughed.

"By the way, my friends call me Jake."

"Nice to meet you, Jake. Were you serious about sharing the food we just bought, with each other?" She asked.

"Sure," I laughed, as we carried the Basil plants to her car. "I even know a nice little place that has a cool veranda with a table, and a couple of chairs," I grinned.

"Your place... ? Right... ?" she grinned.

"Yeah, "I admitted, "Guilty as charged!"

Thinking about it for a moment, she finally gave me a sweet wistful little smile.

"Sure... , why not. I don't have any other plans," she confided.

"You sure I'm not keeping you from other things?" she asked.

"Only what I do everyday."

"May I ask what that is?"she said.

"Nothing."

"Oh... ," she laughed. "You're one of those, huh? I wish I were!" she said.

"If you want to follow me home, we can have lunch on my nice cool veranda.

"Just don't follow me too close. Us older guys sometimes make sudden stops—I wouldn't want you to end up on top of me," I laughed.

Suddenly that wicked sense of humor of hers, reared its delightful head again.

"Is that 'cause you think you're going to end up on top of me, later?" she teased, with an impish little giggle.

Oh, WOW! I thought, stand back folks! Give me some room! I think I may have just been the recipient of a come on... or at the very least, a proposition? Anyway, color me happy!

"Well, you know what Confucius says," I teased. "Old guy who in live in hope—sometime... get lucky!"

"Yeah," she giggled, "I'll bet you and old Confucius knew each other on a first name basis," she teased.

As I pulled into my driveway, I could see my neighbor's looking—wondering— what's up with the old guy in the corner house. Who cares what they think, I decided, dismissing them from my mind.

A moment later Becky pulled into my other driveway. (What can I tell you—some folks have two suits—I have two driveways.)

"Whew... !" she said, "This heat is devastating! I'm hot all over. Ut Oh! Maybe I shouldn't have said that," she smirked.

Seeing my amused expression, she grinned at me—knowing I probably had the perfect comeback.

Well, hey, I did have the perfect sexual innuendo for a comeback. Did I refrain from making my smart remark? You bet I did!

What I was actually thinking to myself was; I would like to take her temperature from her head down to her dainty little feet and all parts in between.

A moment later, we entered the kitchen. Within moments, we had dished out the deli items onto desert plates.