Monday, September 14, 2009


I’m striding purposefully down Seventh Avenue in New York City, headed for a dinner appointment, when someone tugs on my sleeve to get my attention.

“You look like a nice young man who works near here...”

I turn. It’s a semi-elderly lady, about five-foot-three, looking like she’s seen a few birthdays north of sixty-five. I figure she’s mistaken me for a local and she’s looking for directions.

But no.

“How would you like to come over to my place? We could have a nice evening together...”

Holy Fuckamoley! I’ve just been propositioned by somebody’s grandma!

“Errr, ahhh - sorry, I’m not from around here. And I gotta run. But thanks for the offer!”

Well, what the hell was I supposed to say?

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