JIMNASIUM

     I arrived to the venue a little late because of work. By the time I got there everyone had tinted teeth. The group, which I’ve gotten to know through holiday parties and baptisms, are in their 60’s. One of the oldies, Gary, is not too fond of me. Like an elk that has marked his territory, he doesn’t like young bucks like me sniffing around his ladies, whom adore me. Gary’s girlfriend (who is the sweetest thing on Earth) immediately came up to me and slurred in my ear, “You need to keep an eye on Gary. He’s been flirting with every lady here. Tell him to watch it!” They met when he was remodeling her home. He met his ex, who was also there, the same way. Although his hands were rough and callused, I assumed he had a smooth touch. When he set his 3^rd plate of cake on the table to refill his wine, one of the ladies stole it and hid it. When he finally found it he called her a “Bi-atch!” and then laughed.  I had the pleasure of sitting in front of Gary during Pink Martini. At one point he took my hood and aggressively pulled it over my head. I was shocked, yet intrigued. What old man has the energy to still act like a teenager? At one point Gary leaned over to his girlfriend and whispered, “I’d like to pick up a 2^nd language someday.” I thought, “Shit old man, you’re 65. You don’t have a lot of time.” Gary proves that you’re only as young as you think.