stop the presses
This happened my first Sunday on the island (Feb 23rd).
Axel’s baptism party was packed with guests. His parents were busy with the photographer, it was up to me to play host. Seeing so many beautiful women in the crowd, I welcomed the opportunity.
After my months of illness, this was my chance to prove I still got it. (Sorry ladies, I was born with a disbaility. I am a man and this is important).
(Cue in 007 theme music).
Started mingling, complimenting, and flirting.
As the night wore on, more and more ladies told me I looked different. Now, how different could I appear after three months?
Finally, one young lady told me “you look distinguished.”
Later that night, tossing and turning in bed, I replayed that one word, “distinguished”.
A frantic dash to the mirror.
No lines on my forehead. I smiled into the mirror. No laugh lines. Hair was still jet black and on my head. WHAT A RELIEF.
Then, I saw it, or should I say THEM.
There were a half dozen gray hairs at my right temple. Quickly looked and yeah, the left side too.
Today is my birthday. Can someone, please, ease my newly discovered distinguished soul.
The Lonely Author 