Old dudes love me!

The Wasmund and I were visiting a potential new account for happy hour last night and ended up sitting next to a delightful older gentleman. He was kind enough to point us the right direction on the menu (to the happy hour specials!) and we got to talking about Wasmund's Single Malt Whisky.

For some reason, The Wasmund told our new friend (whose name is Neil) how old he is and Neil asked if I was the same age. Now, I won't tell you how old RW is (hint: between 48 and 50, but not 48.5 or 49.5), but it's jarringly older than me. RW told him I was just a spring chicken, which isn't entirely true, but is relatively accurate considering the circumstances.

Finally, I told Neil I was 29 (after he initially guessed 40, then 35 after my visible dismay). He said, "Oh, you look older because you've lost your hair. But, you've still got a young bod!" It's true, he told me I had a "young bod" and that I'm "in great shape." I guess it's too bad that people don't judge age by body-type more often, so that those flabby dudes in college would be mistaken for 40-year-olds, instead of us bald dudes.