If you don’t know what “asteism” means, it pretty much refers to a backhanded compliment


It’s kind of nice to have a bar downstairs from my work where I can, on odd occasion, indulge in a frosty-cool beer and dig the highlights of the Stanley Cup© playoff game that I just missed that night because….I was at work.

This is precisely what I was doing the other night when the following occurred:

I ordered a pint at the bar. Once I was served I went to get a seat at a table that was facing the big-screen t.v.. There were 2 young ladies seated at the bar, both dressed like they were out on the town on a Saturday night, as opposed to being in this place at midnight on a Tuesday.

Now the thing I have to mention is that I was looking pretty good. And in saying that, I would hope that you understand that I don’t ever feel like I am looking pretty good. In fact, I wasn’t particularly feeling like I was looking good at the time. All I can say is that I was wearing a suit and my hair actually looked o.k., which only happens once every 300 days. But I’m not trying to imply that I had any awareness (or concern) of how I was looking. I guess I sort of looked like this:


…if you minus the sideburns and the handsomeness by a factor of 4.

The only reason I bring this up is that was I obviously looking good to one of the aforementioned young hotties at the bar; as I got my pint and started to head to a table, she noticed me and said to my back: “Helllllooooo….”.

I made like I didn’t hear this (because…what am I supposed to do?) and continued on, when she then said (to her companion):

“Mmmm….I like older men!”


The following morning I learned that the previous day was the 25th anniversary of the opening of “Ghostbusters”. Guess I am an older man. I certainly feel like one now.


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