15 ounces, that might be what I have lost since I dialed 911 upon discovering that my jeans don’t meet in the middle. But, 15 ounces is actually what my tax return weighs. When I get the bill, I’ll let you know how much that is per ounce. Trust me, it will not be pretty.
I walked to the accountant’s office from work today and then Ubered home. Best. Uber. Ride. Ever. A genuine limo picked me up. The car was big and black. The driver had coat and tie. It was the Black service for the X pricing. When the driver found out I lived in an old folks asylum he hammed it up on arrival – putting on his hat and hopping out of the car and opening my door. Yes people were watching, even the head of our in-house transportation service. The best $7.01 I ever spent. Thank you Uber. Thank you Luis. Maybe I should put a car service on my speed dial.
Nice dinner with a friend. Yes, Carlton, I do eat dinner with friends. We each ordered take out dinners. I picked them up and my friend supplied the venue, silverware, wine, and peaches for dessert.
Old age isn’t easy. But, if you are lucky, you can share a quiet adult beverage with a friend at your local saloon.