I’m also the in-house resident agony aunt to all the youngsters in the town. You could say I’ve been around the block a few times—yes, I did belong to a nudist colony in the sixties, but didn’t everyone? I must say courting was a lot more fun in the old days. I’m constantly saddened by the endless cries for help in the love department that I receive daily.
I have come to the conclusion that modern technology has removed the mystery from relationships. Visit Facebook and immediately you see photographs of your intended in most inappropriate poses or are given details of personal likes and dislikes. There is no gradual getting to know each other that used to be such a thrill in my day. And—at the risk of upsetting a few of my male fans—you menfolk have it easy. Of course, some women are easy. I’ve told Annabel Lake many times that notching up those marks on her bedpost aren’t going to land her a husband—well, not one of her own.
And then we have poor Vicky Hill who I despair of ever finding a nice man. She’s presentable, intelligent and even though her hair isn’t long enough for most tastes (men so adore long hair), I just don’t understand why she keeps rejecting our paramedic Steve’s advances. Steve is a good old-fashioned sort and always bringing her flowers. True, he’s a little on the heavy side but there is something exciting about Steve and I believe it’s because he wears Old Spice. Thank heavens Old Spice is back in fashion! If only I was thirty-five years younger …
Do feel free to email me your problems. Nothing will ever shock me. You can put “Barbara’s Postbag” in the subject line and use firstname.lastname@example.org as an email address.