Tiffany and I were walking around the lake on Saturday night when this guy in a smurf-blue convertible Mercedes (who had driven past us three times) stops in the middle of the road and asks:

“Hey.  Are you ladies looking for something to do after the fireworks?  We’re having a party and we’ve got a hot tub and a pool table….”

And I’m thinking “Oh.  My.  God.”

 

“He really thinks we’re going to be staying up that late?!”

 

I am old.