Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Finally Enjoying It

My youthful appearance that is.

Though I have many of the calcified habits of an 'old coot', to the eye I look no more than 25 years old.

Taking the plane home to Boston on Sunday I was seated next to a coed of uncertain age. The best guess I could make would be in the range from 15 to 25 years old. Note that is another stark 'old coot' trait - the inability to estimate the ages of anyone much younger.

This girl was sitting there next to me while we idled on the runway for 90 minutes; thumb-typing away the entire time on her cell phone at a pace I simply could not believe (with one hand, mind you!). And I'll bet she was probably just an average speed texter, for her demographic. Still, I wouldn't wager a nickel on her precise age.

Then, later on, I saw in her bag a laptop and several spiral notebooks. That would most likely put her in college or high school. Ignoring the outside chance of grad school, I narrowed her age range from 15 to 22.

The next evidentiary exhibit was some study material she pulled out. Even without my glasses, I spotted the word "racism" at least twenty times on one page.

Aha! She had to be in an American college student!!! Right? Narrowed down to between 18 and 22.

Now I mostly tried to sleep on the plane, having been up for the past 1.5 days or so, give or take, thanks to an all-night bender after 30 holes of golf on Saturday. Though I did find time to whip out my spiral notebook and brainstorm some blog ideas. The young lady clearly strained to see what the heck I was writing. As did the Harvard chick to my left across the aisle. There was NO WAY they could decipher an iota of my illegible scrawl; I can't even read it.

Point of fact, the Harvard dork next to me had procedural questions to ask the flight attendant about how to *assist in the event of an emergency*. I kid you not. (We were seated in the emergency exit aisle. Remember, I always LIE about my willingness to help others in *the event of an emergency*. Every man, woman, and child for themselves!)

But getting off the plane, I asked the girl next to me what school she went to. Brandeis, was the answer; and she was a 21 year old senior.

She then asked me, "What school to do you go to?"

Now this MADE my day, my weekend, and has a good shot at getting me through the next month.

I laughed. Told her only that I "have been out of school a long time". (Almost 13 years now).

She followed up, "You still carry around a monogrammed backpack???"

Yeah, I do at the airport. It's my wife's from her college years. I also had sneakers on, an Old Navy t-shirt, and jeans to go with my freshly shaved head and spiral notebook.

I should have told her I was a student at Tufts or Boston College. I should have pushed the envelope; gotten her number; and tried to invite her or get invited to a college party.

How much fun would it be to go to a sorority formal at the age of 34!?!?!?

Obviously, I'm going to have to ask Mrs. C-Nut for the go-ahead. Though, in general, she's pretty close-minded about stuff like this.


west coast (young) tom. said...

I'm gonna' get you for that Harvard comment, scrotum head. Please, you were trying to ascertain her age...try figuring your angle. Let's be honest. And since it's a couple weeks until my 37th birthday, why don't you forward those digits this way!

CaptiousNut said...

Bi-Coastal, er Bi-Tom,

Okay, this girl was like 6'3, had red hair, thick glasses, asked *procedural questions* about emergency exit responsibilities, AND wore a Harvard sweatshirt.

Do you have a more appropriate term than *dork*, vulva-face???

Happy birthday you dinosaur!

west coast tom. said...

that sounds all too familiar, unfortunately. Oh, I'm a dinosaur alright. Some days I feel like my ankles went on vacation...not so nice. One year closer to the senior tour!!