The other day
this 70-something-year-old customer came in, a regular that I know by name. As he starts to tell me whatever problem he had with whatever device, a piece of corn or some other food he was eating earlier fell out of his mouth and hung on his bottom lip, not unlike Lindsay Lohan desperately clinging on to her relevancy. I almost dry-heaved at the sight of it and quickly ushered him in the direction of someone else to help him, because I was certain I would vomit if I looked at him any longer.
I know that sounds terrible, but you know what? I’ve decided to stop aging. I’m going to will my body to stay 23 forever. Wish me luck.
