Last Saturday Rob, Maggie, Tom and I enjoyed a delicious Amish Market lunch, fueling ourselves with all of the traditionally heavy carbs, fats and sugars we needed to do some serious hunting and gathering at Barnes and Noble, our next stop. The restaurant was crowded, and as a result I was sitting less than two feet from a lovely woman of a certain age, who was tastefully dressed, coiffed and made up. Her companion was wearing a faded baseball cap, a wrinkled polo shirt, a paunch and sensible cream leather cross-trainers.
She asked him, “When you gave me that sheet on the Botox, was there something I was supposed to get from that?”
“Nah,” he replied, “I was just jerking your chain.”
Silence. Then she said, “So, do you think I need some?”
And I thought, dude, your sense of humor needs a serious overhaul.
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