So, I settled on Grapefruit Gardens, a pleasant well-cared-for medium-sized park of tidy manufactured homes on the southwest coast of Florida. A place with more amenities than I could ever hope to use. At the first HOA meeting, I attended, I sat next to a man named Larry. He said, “If you’re looking for a ‘hot date,’ there’s a lot of single women here.” He wiggled his fingers like rabbit ears making air quotes.
I looked around the room and came up empty. I asked him what he meant by “hot,” sending a finger semaphore back at him. It had been a while since my last romantic relationship.
He looked surprised at my uncertainty and said, “That’s a woman who can still drive a car after dark.”