So I was chatting to this single woman in her thirties.
“How’s your new home?” I asked.
“Good,” she said.
“How’s the horse riding?”
“Good,” she said. “I met a new horse today at the stable near me. It’s hard to find a good horse.”
“I feel the same way about girlfriends,” I said.
“I had this one for five years,” she said. “I loved her, but she died. She was 32. She got too old. She had to be put down.”
“I had a girlfriend like that,” I said. “She got too old. I had to shoot her.”
“That’s terrible,” she said. “It’s got to be the right one.”
“I know just what you mean,” I said.
“I don’t know why I even bother,” she said.
“I know about the romance between women and horses,” I said.
“It is mostly women who are riding,” she said. “It’s hard to find a good one.”
“Have you tried online?” I asked.
“I’m going to buy a bottle of water,” she said and got up and left the room.
