I worked my way through college at a restaurant, where I learned how to stop being shy, how to shotgun a beer, and how to cook meat with very large sticks. At that restaurant, I worked with today’s collaborator, Rhonda, who was — I think? — the same age then that I am now. As I am now in my late thirties and working with a lot of college students, I can empathize with Rhonda in a way I couldn’t have conceived of when I WAS a college student. If Rhonda thought we were silly or overly dramatic or wrapped up in ourselves, she didn’t let it show. She also didn’t feel the need to constantly point out “how much older [she] was than [we] were,” which I am hoping to learn how to do. I’m pretty sure these are important pieces in that elusive puzzle of “aging gracefully.”
This morning, I found two white pubic hairs. What do I do?
This is definitely troubling. Where, exactly, did you find them? Because of the potentially embarrassing nature of telling me “exactly,” I’ve given you some options:
a) in your shower stall
b) in your spaghetti bolognese
c) your nether regions
d) none of the above
PS You may substitute (b) as oatmeal if needed — as I have just realized that only an Italian or an Australian would eat spaghetti bolognese in the morning.
Thank you for putting things in perspective. I suppose that is probably the only way to age gracefully, which is what I’m hoping for. My love to Gordon and the dog.
Rhonda (nee Furner) Martin was born and raised in Sydney, Australia — land of Milk and Honey (beer and meat pies).
Currently residing in Los Angeles, California — land of Swimming Pools and Movie Stars (Botox and drive-by shootings).
Currently employed — though not very often, thankfully — as a Driver for Cast and Crew in Hollywood. See lots of Botox, but fortunately only one real dead body, so far . . . Interested in just about everything. But especially the science of the universe and her dog’s poop.