Tanya Sawyer was ecstatic when she heard the news from California, and called her friend Henrietta right away. “Henrietta. I won!” she yelled into the phone.

“Won what?” asked Henrietta.

Tanya reminded Henrietta of her trip a few months ago to visit her son in Los Angeles. “Remember when I went to visit Tom? And remember when I told you I went to a taping of ‘Your Dreams Come True’ at the ABC studio? They asked people in the audience what we would dream for. And guess what? They chose my dream, and now I get to go back to Hollywood to be on the show.”

Henrietta was impressed. “That’s wonderful, Tanya. When are you going? And what is your dream?”

“I leave in the morning. Tom bought me a plane ticket. I’ll stay with him and his family again. The show will be taped on Wednesday.”

”And your dream?” Henrietta asked again.

“You’ll be jealous. In fact, all of the ladies in our water aerobics class will be. I get to have coffee with George Clooney!”

Tanya told Henrietta how after seeing George on TV one day, all she wanted to do was sit down with him and enjoy a nice cup of coffee while looking into his dark eyes and savoring his warm smile. “Look. I’m in my mid-seventies, I’m single, and a girl’s gotta dream about something. And now it’s going to come true.”

“You’re right. I am jealous. Hey, if you can, give him a kiss on the cheek for me. Just don’t tell Horace. He’s the jealous type too.”

Wednesday came quickly. Tanya landed in LA the day before. She spent a nice day with Tom, Becky, and the grandkids, then went to sleep early. She didn’t sleep much. She was in deep anticipation of the next day. Tom dropped her off at the studio in the morning and told her he’s be back at five to take her back the airport.

“Hello, Ms. Sawyer.”

Tanya looked up see the show’s producer, Bob Bidnus, extending his hand. “Hello.” she replied.

Bob took her to a dressing room, where she was made up, and where she met the other two winners for the day. The whole experience was a whirlwind of activity, but Tanya kept her composure. She wanted to be cool and collected when she met George.

At exactly eleven o’clock, Biff Boufont, the aging emcee, entered the studio and took his place at his desk. Biff looked good for his age, and Tanya rightfully guessed his youthful looks were the results of extensive plastic surgeries and hair plugs. Tanya also surmised that Biff used enough bleach on his teeth to fill the pool back at the Wander In Resort where she lived.

“Let’s get this show started.” Biff announced. The three contestants took their seats on the stage. They received last minute directions from Bob. Tanya was nervous, but also excited knowing that she would meet George in a few short minutes.

“Here we go.” said Bob. “Five, four three . . . “, he said, using his fingers to count down the seconds. When he reached one, Biff took over.

“Hello America, and welcome to ‘Your Dreams Come True’. I’m your host, Biff, Boufont, and today, we have three eager people who will all get their dreams answered. Stick around. We’ll be back after a word from our sponsor.”

Before the show started, Tanya drew the shortest straw, and had to go last. She sat upright and kept a smile on her face as she watched the first contestant, Lois Langberger, from Feline Heights, Minnesota, feed and cuddle an imposter cat who she swore was Morris the Cat. Lois was a cat lover at heart, and Morris had been her hero ever since he stared in 9Lives cat food commercials in the 1970s. Lois was in Heaven until Buzz, the cat who looked like Morris, coughed up a hairball on Lois’ lap then ran from the stage. A commercial break followed.

Next up, Zachariah, an eighty-something, burned out hippie from Seattle, recounted his love for the Puget Punks, one of the first grunge bands to come out of Seattle. Zachariah, whose real name was Harvey Hackmore, always dreamed of jamming with Seth, the lead singer and guitarist from the Puget Punks. When Seth’s name was announced, Seth walked on; really he stumbled onto the stage, carrying an out-of-tune, and badly damaged Silvertone guitar. Zach’s dream was soon shattered when he realized Seth was quite stoned and couldn’t remember any of his big hits with the Punks. Seth sang a couple of incomprehensible songs that Zach had never heard, but tried to hum. Another commercial break arrived.

Tanya finally got her chance. Biff asked her about her dream. Tanya looked straight into the camera and told the audience how much she adored George Clooney and how much she loved her morning cup of coffee, and how her life would be complete if she could sit down with George and enjoy a cup of hot, delicious coffee with him.

Biff announced, “Well Tanya. Today is your lucky day. Your dream is about to be answered. It just so happens that George is in town filming his next movie. Let’s have him meet you. George . . . ?”

The curtain flung open and George Clooney stepped into the stage, pulling a cart with a shiny, new espresso maker. He smiled to Tanya with his friendly smile, teeth whiter than Casper the Ghost. “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Tanya.” George said, as he motioned for her to join him.

Tanya had a look of confusion on her face as she approached George. “Well, you’re a lot taller than I thought. And you have more hair then last time I saw you on TV. But it looks nice, and pretty real too.”

George kept smiling as he tried to figure Tanya out. “Well, Tanya, Thank you for that. You ready for coffee. I just happen to have a Perspresso machine, and I’ll make you the perfect cup of espresso.”

George made two perfect espressos with the Perspresso, handed one to Tanya, and then invited her to sit on the couch with him. Tanya still looked a little confused, but thanked George for the espresso, and remarked, “I’ve watched all your shows on TV. Remember when you tried to save the whale who had a golf ball in his blowhole?”

Now it was George’s turn to look confused. “I’ve never saved a whale. I did save Gotham city from Mr. Freeze.”

Tanya looked stunned, and hadn’t started on her espresso. “But I know that was you who came up with cotton uniforms for the Yankees. That was so funny when it started to rain. I thought Steinbrenner would . . . “.

George cut in. “Ma’am. I’m not sure who you’re referring to. I hate the Yankees. But maybe you saw me in Leatherheads. That’s a football movie.”

Tanya was becoming angry with George. “You’re starting to burst my bubble. Just like you did to that poor little boy in the bubble. It’s a good thing Jerry and Elaine came to the rescue.”

George lost it. He grabbed the cup of espresso from Tanya’s hand and chided her. “Costanza! Costanza! You have the wrong George, lady. He’s the short, fat, balding George and I’m the tall, handsome one. He’s on NBC. Their studio is down the street.”

With that, George Clooney grabbed the cart with the Perspresso machine and scurried off the stage. Tanya looked up at Biff and said, “Well, I like the other George better. I bet he makes good coffee, and not that espresso shit.”

Thursday morning, Tanya and Henrietta sat in the bistro at Wander In and laughed about Tanya’s encounter with her dream. “I don’t know how I confused the two. I watched every Jerry Seinfeld episode. I really wanted to have coffee with Jerry. That is, until I saw him throw a chair across the stage once. What a bad temper he has.”

Henrietta smiled at her friend and said, “Maybe it’s time to stop dreaming and just live your life in the present.”

Saturday found Horace and Grant at the pickleball courts. Grant worked the previous Friday night dance and stayed late to help clean up. He slept in until close to ten, and didn’t make it to the courts until noon. Friday night dances took their toll on Grant, especially when the band was hot and Gloria was in a dancing mood. Even though Grant worked, Gloria snagged him more than a few times to dance.

Between games, while waiting for open courts, Grant told Horace about the craziness of the previous evening. “Last night sure was busy” Grant said.

“I heard they set a record. This morning, Tim, the Dance Committee leader, told me he’d never seen so many people jammed on the dance floor all at once.” Horace replied.

“When the band played the booty scooty song, I thought a fight would break out between the regular dancers and those out-of-control line dancers. I was ready to lay down a wager on the line dancers. They sure did look determined.”

Horace smiled. “It’s worse on County and Western Night. I always say, ‘Don’t be messin’ when the bunkins are two-steppin’.”

Someone called Horace and Grant’s names and they trotted off to a court for a game. They lost to a couple of young guys and were back on the sidelines in ten minutes.

“Who invited those young punks to come play here?” Grant asked. “They should go play where they live.”

“Sorry to inform you, Grant, but they live here. And they’re in their sixties.”

Grant grumbled, and then changed the subject. “Back to the dance last night. Guess who showed up? Rich Cazayu. He was there with his wife, all dressed up real flashy and glitzy?”

“You mean the financial advisor?” Horace asked.

“You know him?”

“Not really. But he gave a talk for the Wander In Social Club a few weeks ago. It was all about how to protect your assets, in other words, your retirement savings, by giving it all to him.”

Grant nodded. “Yeah, him. I remember now. He was dressed up all rich and wanted us to think that if we give him our money, we’d all become rich too. Anyway, I dealt with him last night. I was selling raffle tickets and strolled by his table. I saw him sitting there looking all snooty and such. And his wife looked like she was getting ready to have an interview with Robin Leach.”

“Except Robin died a few years ago.” Horace interjected.

Grant continued. “I thought she was wearing the Hope Diamond, but when I looked closer, I realized it was way too small to be the Hope Diamond. Anyway, I asked him if he wanted to buy some tickets. I told him they cost five bucks for eight tickets. He opened his wallet and pulled out this huge ol’ wad of cash. But all he had was four one-dollar bills and a bunch of fifties and hundreds. And I didn’t have change for bills that big.”

“What did you do?” Horace asked.

Grant pulled a dollar bill from his pocket. “I had this dollar in my pocket. I took it out and handed it to him so he could buy eight tickets. He gave me back my dollar with his four and I peeled off eight tickets. He thanked me and shoved his wallet back into his pocket while Mrs. Glitz and Gliimmer grabbed the tickets.”

“That sure was nice of you.” Horace said.

“And guess what? He wins. Two hundred bucks. When Tim called his number, his wife, smiling like the Cheshire Cat, jumped up like a hen on a hotplate, sashayed up to the front waving her jewelry all around and grabbed the winnings.”

Horace remarked. “Well, I guess it was her lucky day.”

“Here’s the worst part.” Grant said. “A few minutes later, I strolled by again and congratulated him for winning. In my mind, I was thinking that since I gave him my dollar, and that my dollar could have bought the winning ticket, and that one in five is twenty percent, and that twenty percent of two-hundred bucks is forty bucks, that maybe he’d realize that, since he’s obviously a numbers person, and give me forty bucks.”

“Did he?” Horace asked.

“Nope. I don’t think we was going to give me anything. But his wife said he should give me my dollar back and he did. So they went home with a hundred and ninety-nine dollar profit, all from possibly using my money.”

“Well, that sounds about right for a financial advisor.”

“Yep.” Grant said. “I think I’ll keep my money right where it is. I’ve wisely invested it, and it’s safe and sound.”

Just then, one of the two young guys who beat Horace and Grant earlier called their names. “You ready to lose again?” he smirked.

Grant reached into the pocket and pulled out the dollar bill. “A buck says we kick your butts this game.”

Horace looked up and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such wise investing. But it sure is a better bet than forty dollars. Let’s play.”