Children? Well, that's a long story...

That’s how I start the story when I’m asked if I have any children. You would think they would get that from my profile. Well the answer is no, er, yes, uh, maybe, um, I don’t know. You see, it is a long story…

Back in the mid 80’s, 1985 to be exact, I was working as a waiter at a hotel restaurant. They had a quarterly hair show, where stylist would come in from all over the country to learn the latest styles and techniques. That’s where I met a salon owner from a small town in Texas, Tina. She was a beautiful, soft-spoken blonde, with a sexy, Texas accent. She was also married. We had an affair the first couple of shows she went too, and we would write each other in between. I do not know if she had a bad marriage or not. I got the impression he was a nice enough guy. Maybe she needed a little excitement in her small-town life.

We made love on my birthday, Jan. 5th, and she had a baby girl on Oct. 5th. That’s exactly 9-months. Now, I know that does not automatically make me the father, but, when you consider that the husband had a vasectomy, well, what do you think? She never told me one way or the other. Though very rare, it can happen.

The husband assumed the role of loving father, even though, he had to know. He was pretty well off, and her salon was very successful, too. So I know the girl was well taken care of.

Why do I bring up this story? Well, a Topeka woman contacted me, so I said “Why don’t you meet me at the finish line of my race and we’ll have pancakes and coffee at the post-race party”. I could tell right away that I was never going to see her again (too wrinkly). But, we went through the motions. When the question came up, “Do you have any kids?”, and I went into my “Well, it is long story..”, yarn. She said, “And you never tried to contact her or get to know her? You’re an ASS!” . Well, you dumb, wrinkly broad, what was I supposed to do, break up a family? I didn’t have a pot to piss in, in those days.

In the future, I’ll be more selective to who I tell that story too. But, when they ask me a direct question… I think about her from time to time, especially around her birthday. She’ll be 21 this year. I try to imagine what she looks like. I try to morph the picture of Tina, and me together to get an idea of what she might look like. I don’t even know her name.

There’s a good chance that she’s working in her mom’s shop. I know that the shop is still in business, because I’ve looked it up on the internet. Communications between Tina and I, gradually dwindled, till they stopped altogether. One of these days, I plan to take a trip to the small, Texas town of, blah-blah, and just drop by the shop and get my hair cut. Maybe I’ll get my hair cut by the daughter. I wouldn’t reveal my identity, that’s up to Tina. I would just make small talk. How’s your life? What are your aspirations? Are you in Love? Then I’d offer advice, which she’ll ignore. What 20-year-old listens to their parents? Kids!