Someone told him I was a member of Mensa. He called a few days later and said he wanted to talk about joining and could he come over to the house. I agreed and he drove up in less than three minutes. Pretty fast drive from a town twenty miles away. Yes, he drove up in the original rust and lime green VW Beetle. I later learned that he had a black and white television, and rented the cheapest one-room lodging he could find despite making a good income as an auditor for the state. Mostly he wanted to talk about romance and why he couldn’t have any. I realized much later he was simply seeking free counseling.

He called a couple more times for permission to drop in and, in the process, learned I was home most Saturday mornings puttering around the house. At first he just showed up to talk and smoke. And at first I did not mind. He always talked about needing to leave soon to go wash his clothes and hinted he could stay longer if I let him use my machine. Being rather slow at hearing hints, I missed that opportunity completely. As time progressed, he began bringing porno films to watch on my large screen TV. Since one of the most unproductive things in the world is watching porno with another man, I went on with my various projects. By the time of his last drop-in, he was bringing two packs of cigarettes, a six pack of beer, and one or two tapes to watch. He always completed the whole thing.

He passed the Mensa test just fine and joined the local group. They accepted him just as he was and he became quite involved for a while. He served as the registrar for their annual weekend regional gathering. In fact, he became rather well known.

Bird met Eileen at one of the Mensa Regional Gatherings. It was a magic night. They found a quiet corner in the game room, sat on the floor and talked for hours. Perhaps Bird had finally found the woman he had dreamed about. In the course of the conversation, she mentioned one of her children. He asked, “How many children do you have?” And she replied, “Eight.”

Without another word, Bird arose and ran (literally) from the room.

It seemed life was beginning to come together for him; however, after a couple of years he dropped his membership and began trying to free-load at the various gatherings. The local group asked him to re-join or move on. Some time later he, literally, moved on and the other groups in his new hometowns were even more to the point.

Before leaving town, he called one night to talk about a problem. He said he had something really kinky to tell me. It seems he had asked a nurse, Cindy, for a date and she agreed. They went dining and dancing at a popular dancing and drinking club. In due time they left to go home. When they got into his beetle-sized VW, he reported that she “wanted to get it on - in the back seat.” They did. He never did get around to telling me the kinky part.

Time passed. He left town and moved around some and finally was based as a traveling auditor out of the state capitol. I ran into him one night at a BBQ place. He was ensconced in a back booth with his cigarettes, a glass of tea, the newspaper, and his material to study for the CPA exam. After eating, I went back and talked with him for a while. He was on a two-year assignment in that major city auditing an insurance company and had a $15 per night motel room down the street. He came up and parked in “his” booth every evening in one of the busiest BBQ places in town.

As I was leaving, the cashier asked me about him. Said his free-loading in the booth was creating a problem and they did not know how to encourage him to take his “iced tea” business elsewhere. I suggested they just tell him. He was not there the next several times I ate there.

Not long after coming to work in the state capitol, I was sent on a training week with a group of teachers from a small town. Our team of three and their team of six made arrangements to share dinner one evening. One of the teachers had to go back home that night, so eight of us got acquainted over dinner. During the course of the meal, I mentioned I knew someone from their town. Billy Byrden. That got an immediate response and they told me the story.

Ginger, the teacher who had missed our dinner, had recently divorced. Our hero and rescuer of damsels in distress was the first male to show an interest in her. After much internal debate and external advice from her teacher friends, she agreed to go out to dinner with him. In preparation for this major event in her life, she drove to town and after extensive searching found just the right dress for the evening. And - it only cost $100.

The great evening arrived. Now, that small town has only two restaurants: the Catfish and Steak House, which serves excellent lemon-peppered grilled dishes on vinyl table tops, and Hardees Hamburgers, which has great biscuits. Bird suggested Hardees as an excellent choice for the evening. Ginger was not overly thrilled with the idea and suggested they go to a city for dinner. After all, it was only twenty miles and they could talk on the way.

Since voting wet, a significant number of restaurants have opened ranging anywhere from one to three stars. (***) out of five. Dinner for two could range anywhere from $10.00 to $30.00 if you really push the extravagant end. There are, even, three Hardees. After discussing the options, they ended up at Shoney’s, a great choice. Yes, a great choice for a $100.00 dress. The Salad Bar gives numerous items and their Big Boy Hamburger with Fries is a favorite with hundreds of picky eaters.

Bird really wasn’t too hungry, so he bought a newspaper that had the latest photos of gardeners with their watermelon sized “yaller” squash and ordered a cup of coffee. While his date enjoyed her meal of “whatever you want,” Bird leaned back to the side of the booth and rested his tired feet on his bench while catching up with the news of the world.

The ride back to her house was pleasant enough. Delighted to be back to her own clean boudoir, she excused herself for a few minutes to refresh her face. She was now ready for an hour or so of scintillating and stimulating conversation before he returned home. When she entered the living room, Bird was standing nude under the ceiling fan. Of course, she never once looked at him through her averted eyes, screamed, went back into the bedroom and locked the door. End of date. End of story.

The next morning, Ginger joined our group in the hallway before the first session began. I used the same conversational ploy as the previous evening. “I know someone from your town, Billy Byrden.” Of course, her friends drew out that she had dated him. And my response was, “I bet you’re the one!”

“There was this young man, named Byrden, who wanted some romance in his life and who read about a single Valentine’s dinner and dance. So he went to the Fashion Coordinator at K-Mart for help in preparing for the potentially life-changing event. She fixed him up in a brown polyester seersucker suit, a cream polyester shirt, with a matching socks and tie set. The only thing lacking from this fashion statement was new shoes.

“She told him to go to Pic’N’Pay and get a pair of brown and white shoes. After that, he was all fixed for his magical evening. Arriving early, he carefully picked out a table with three empty chairs. In due time, three ladies joined him at the table: a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. The conversation was delightful and he really wanted all three. The only problem in the whole affair was that his new dancing shoes hurt his feet. He had quietly slipped them off under the table.

“The dance began and the redhead, being a bit more assertive, invited Bird to dance. He jumped up with eagerness and sat down just as fast as he realized his shoes were off. They never would have caught on if he could have found the brown one.”

Someone told Bird the story and he never showed up on my doorstep again. My prayer must have been answered.