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.