It was my birthday this past week, so I guess this makes a little sense. I have felt ehh, mid 20's in spirit ever since I was that age. I can start feeling it in my knees and neck that maybe I am getting older. Earlier in the summer trying to help Javalina and going against him in blocking techniques to get him ready for the football season really woke me up that I am no longer a spring chicken, that boy hits like a bull.
Wife sits frustrated with me as I insist on a nap mid day, blaming the heat of the day, or the fact that I get up early at 7:00am, or even that little thing of working night shift for twenty plus years which I lean to every day for everything. Even when Girlie texts to see how things are going and what I am up to. My usual answer to her is "I am fixing to take a nap in a bit." She doesn't hesitate to say stuff like "come on old man.", or "dang, you're turning into a grandpa."
But Saturday morning I went to get Wife some new tires and first of all, I noticed an attractive girl sitting outside which of course made me think "yum, I wouldn't mind some of that." And then as I stood in the line where we wait before we are helped, another girl in her twenties and the usual itty bitty shorts, which my head thinks "yeah, that is for daddy."
The reality is I am invisible for these yummy little twinkies, but now I believe I have aged like a fine tequila and become one of the old compadres. As I am trying to feast my eyes on the young hotties in there, the old man behind me starts chatting me up and before I know it, I am breaking into English and Spanish like I was talking to someone from my hometown. We instantly hit it off and we talked about everything from our lazy kids to the vehicles we drive, it was such an easy conversation. No way I could talk to a twit in skimpy shorts like that, even when I was twenty.
Eventually, we moved forward enough, I placed my order and the guy said it would take a few hours as I was twentieth in line to get serviced. I said, that's cool, I'll just come back later. I texted my boy to come get me, and as I stood there by the door, another old Hispanic man came over and he just assumed I talked Spanish as he started up with what am I driving and what was the damage (as far as the cost). He was all happy he had bought insurance the last time, as he had a fairly new tire that got a puncture on the sidewall, but they gave him a free tire. We joked for a bit, again, like I knew this guy all my life.
Is that my fate now, everywhere I go, old men will be my companions? I feel like I need a pack of cigarettes, like my dad, to have a reason to loaf around and pick up idle chit chat with random old farts about the weather, talk about whatever sports is in season, and eventually, the dreaded grandkids. Damn this grey hair!!!
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