So I was out with my friend Alex. Have I ever mentioned my friend Alex? Nice guy. I met him at Sole Luna restaurant where I pretended to be deaf and he pretended to be single but we eventually sorted it out after two weeks of him thinking I was the best lip reader ever. Despite all that, we’ve drifted into a friendship where he brings me wine (he’s in the business) and books, and I bring him …….. joy? I dunno.
That’s Alex. He’s 42 and looks quite appropriately, 42. I on the other hand, due to my puppy-like manners and large collection of headbands, often fool the casual observer into thinking I’m younger than my 29 years.
So there we were, walking into a bar in Del Mar, and a couple of guys also entering the bar hold the door open for us. Pleasantries are exchanged and we take a seat a table next to them at the bar.
Later, something perks my ears and I look up from my Japanese whiskey. I hear one of the guys say “for every year age difference you gotta figure at least another thirty grand a year he must be making, and he’s got twenty years on her so ….” As I look up at the speaker, he looks mortified.
They cleared out shortly after, and when we tried to pay our bill we were informed that our “friends” had taken care of the whole thing. Alex was confused so I filled him in on what they’d noticed me overhear.
“I hope they didn’t offend you,” he said.
“GAWD no. They thought I was twenty-two. You?”
“No, they thought I was out with a twenty-two year old. And they thought that I was rich. And that despite all that, they thought that I needed to be cheered up with a free dinner.”