Thursday, December 05, 2013

I'm cool

Therapy time.

The other day when I was walking in the neighbourhood in my causal / pyjama / workout outfit with a high school flavor, a leggy blond shouted Hi and waved to me some ten car spaces away.

Her mother was there too, just drove her back from school! She's my favourite school girl, pre-teen but built like a teen model.  Her body isn't exceptional but tall if not taller than many adults.  Indeed I barely recognize her because I met her just once in my house.  I avoided checking her out, looking elsewhere most of the time but I remembered her rather lovely toes.  At least you have to know where the person stands to offer her tea or something.

I waved back.  Am I cool?  May be I am.  May be Mrs Player is cooler because she is the undisputed fashion icon of the neighbourhood, or the entire small city.  She always leave the house in her uniforms, which is also her merchandize. 

A couple of months earlier I was with a relative who got hungry.  We rushed into the nearest McDonald for some snacks.  To our horror the entire high school nearby was there as the school day had just ended.

I was in my slippers, Kelvin Klein's over the kneel jeans, M&S polo (that never faded away), and dark glasses. If you take a flight to LA in summer you will see a lot of these variants.  Indeed too much to make you feel sick.

But some are just cooler than the others.  When I walk pass a high school girl looking at the entrance, she said hi to me!  I didn't know what to do.  I wasn't prepared for that in 20 years.  So I tried to be very nice and polite, replied hi, all smiling, and continue to go where I was going.  Phew!  I hope she was not disappointed or hurt in any way.

She wasn't a teen model but not bad.  She was like the captain of the social club, trying to chat to the new cool guy in school that she never saw.  Or nowadays in school they just hook up this way?

Not long before that, in the mail I got a membership invitation to join the AARP.  Fuck.  They should be banned for soliciting, not even in the mail.

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