Pheromone failures.

I went to a doctor a couple of days ago to get my medical marijuana license renewed. Before I saw the doc, an attractive young nurse took me to a room to take my vitals. (I hate that phrase, "take my vitals" - it sounds like an execution.) She weighed me and read my blood pressure. Then she sat in a chair a bit below where I was sitting on that crinkly-paper-covered table they make you sit on and put her hand on her thigh. She said, "Please put your hand like this so I can take your pulse."

I immediately thought of a brilliant joke. "If I put my hand on your leg like that, my pulse will be 220!" Fortunately, I put my hand on my own thigh and said nothing - a rare act of restraint.

When I got home, though, I told Twila that I'd had such a funny line and was sorry I didn't say it. She said, "That sounds like an old man's joke."

I was like, BOINK! She was right! It's the kind of thing my 112-year-old dad might have said. Was I turning into HIM???? Was I an old man???? I resolved to keep my guard up.

Yesterday I was in a grocery store buying fruit. I saw that blackberries were 4 packages for $5, a great price. I was picking my packages when a young woman stepped up next to me. I looked at her and said, "4 for $5! What a great price!" I wasn't flirting, I was just saying. She looked at me like I'd just landed from Mars.

A moment later I pushed my cart away as she was leaving. Her cart almost hit mine and she said, "Sorry, SIR."

SIR?????????

And I'd thought that losing my good vision was the worst part of this getting older thing.