Faint Heart Never Wins Fair Lady

Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet

Eating her curds and whey

Along came a spider and

Sat down beside her and

Frightened Miss Muffet away

Spider Ronkowski always had a way with women ever since high school, when he was quarterback on the football team.  There wasn’t a cheerleader who wouldn’t go out with him—and live to regret it?  He had hoped to get a football scholarship to college, but he was deemed too lightweight—sorry, light in weight.  Still, sports were in his blood and in his personal profile on his site, so he went out for baseball and became a reliable right fielder.  There were still baseball junkies in Nebraska, so he never suffered from his change of sports.  He was still the man.

But high school ends, as does college, in order that real life can begin.  Spider Ronkowski wanted to stick with sports as a journalist or a tv reporter.  But he had two problems.  With sentences he never got the hang of this subject/predicate thing, not that any prof would dare fail him. Said prof would have to answer to the coaching staff if that happened.  As far as tv, he discovered there were too many has-beens, as in has been great at one sport or another, for him to qualify.  So were the glory days over?

Everyone finds his or her path.  Spider found his working his way up the food chain of a suburban Target, moving into a management position, which suited his nature, and he wasn’t a bad boss, not really.  There were a few claims of sexual harassment, but that was par for the course with women nowadays. However, now that he had hit his middle thirties, he decided it was time to settle down. All he had to do was zero in on someone suitable.  That someone turned out to be Mazie Muffet.

Mazie Muffet was one of several pharmacists working for CVS inside his Target.  He had his eye on her, but she didn’t seem to have her eye on him.  Basically, she was too busy, answering phones, answering questions, filling prescriptions.  Still, there was lunch in the break room, where he’d often find her, sitting on the couch he installed in case any of his workers needed to lie down.  No-one could ever claim he wasn’t thoughtful.  That’s where he sought her out, tried several times to sit down next to her, until she’d say, “Social distancing, please,” or “Masks up.”

So he’d move away and say something like, “Why do you eat cottage cheese every day.  You don’t need to lose weight.  Actually, your body could use a little bit more heft.”

It was hard to interpret the look she gave him because of the mask she put on, as she suddenly rose; but he always had a way with women, so he was sure she had taken the compliment well.

One evening, when they were leaving the store at the same time, he asked Mazie Muffet if she’d like to go for a drink.  She paused and then said, “I don’t believe you’re in my bubble.”

“Baby, I could be in your bubble any day,” Spider said suavely.

For some reason, she took out her car keys and held them as a weapon, as if he’d ever needed to force anyone.  He started to consider that maybe she wasn’t the right one for him.  After all, he was a MacDonald’s man, and he was beginning to think she was way too lactose tolerant.

But he decided to give little Miss Muffet one last chance.  His Target was having a friendly Sunday night softball competition with the local Walmart.  It would be his chance to show what he was made of, having been a star college athlete and all. He even came to the game wearing his college letter jacket.

Miss Muffet came in a t-shirt and jeans and running shoes.  She was a good-looking package, but he was doubtful of her athletic abilities, so he had her batting seventh.  He played cleanup in the batting order.  In the fifth inning, he had already knocked in two runs, by making a sacrifice at second.  So he was along the sidelines when it was Mazie’s turn at bat.  “You go, curds and whey!” he cheered her on with a firm, cupping pat on her rear.

She turned swiftly around with the bat in her hand to acknowledge his encouragement.  Or that’s what it looked like to him.  Surprisingly, she hit a grounder to first, touching base just before the throw.

Eighth batter was a pimply stock boy whose mother had come to cheer him on.  Jeez!  But he hit it way into center field, and Mazie was able to make it around to third.  Was this their chance to more than even the score?  But—batting ninth was the community college girl who handles returns.  What hope was there for team Target?  However, she laid down the perfect bunt and both pitcher and catcher raced for it, while she hightailed it to first.

In came Mazie, blazing along the base line from third to home, and there was Spider, urging her on.  He waved, shouting, “Come on, curds!  Come on, whey!”  And she came on, as the catcher was caught by indecision, finally throwing to first.  Meanwhile, Spider was standing by home plate to welcome Mazie’s run.

But she did’t stop when she touched base.  Instead she plowed into him with a force he couldn’t imagine and a knee that came up to his groin, leaving him—hors de combat?

At the parking lot, after they won the game and well after he semi-recovered, if one could recover from such a blow, Mazie came over to him and said, “You touch my ass ever again and you won’t have a groin to worry about.”

Finally!  She had made the first approach instead of the other way around.  Despite her rather harsh words, Spider took this as a sign that she was interested.