
If youth is wasted on the young, perhaps old age is being wasted on me. I was recently in a coffee house when two younger women checked me out.
Yes, the older men younger women fantasy flashed through my mind.
Now, now – I know the difference between people looking at me and looking past me at someone else or to a clock on the wall. I was sitting by myself in the corner, and there was nothing for them to see but me. My fly was zipped up, there was no food stuck in my
teeth, no purple...
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