The author at work?

The author at work?

Monday 11 January 2010

Route 66 (minus 22)

Last week I turned the square root of 1,950. The strange thing is I really do not feel that old, although I am getting thin in areas I dont want to be thiner in and larger in areas that I would like to remain thiner. But at least I have all my marbles, no sign of Alzheimers or short term memory loss yet thank goodness. But at least I have all my marbles, no sign of Alzheimers or short term memory loss yet thank goodness.



Only two whole days after my birthday the wife took me into town to buy me my birthday gift, a rather super Tag Heuer watch. Guilt gifts are always the best.



Then as aways seems to happen on me oriented shopping expeditions we went on to buy stuff for the girls. Strange how that always happens. Anyway, we ended up in the cosmetics department of some chic boutique where the wife stocked up on Botox and assorted lotions and postions.



When the time came to pay I noticed that the saucy young sales girl was gazing intently at me. "Well the poor girl is only flesh and blood" I thought " who can blame her if she gets hot and bothered by a tall, dark international man of mystery". I gave her my brooding, Mr Darcy look that said:" I know you are fighting your passions but you must be strong. I am a married man you know".



"And perhaps Sir would like some of our new Clinique Age Defence Hydrator" she said. Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather. She did not see me as a sex object, only as a sales opportunity, obviously in need of age reducing gloop. My ego has been on life support ever since.



Do I really look like I need age defence products?!. OK, I admit that over the last few years I have been using a hedge strimmer on my eyebrows, chase nesting birds from my nasal hair and developed an unexplained fondness for The Antiques Roadshow, jigsaw puzzles and Werther`s Originals, but for goodness sake I am still only in my extremely late thirties.

I have just checked the post and would you believe it, those scallywags at Saga, the magazine for people shortly about to cool to room temperature, have sent me an offer. Buy a stairlift and you get cut price Viagra. I am appalled but strangely tempted. Must dash if I want to catch the last post.

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