L and I were in Las Vegas recently, taking a much needed vacation and using the occasion to celebrate my birthday and our six month anniversary. I spent a lot of time playing Blackjack. I sat down at a table at the Luxor and was asked by the dealer to present an ID. I was wearing shorts, a T shirt and a Red Sox hat, but I was still shocked that those would total up to shave more than ten years off my appearance. Regardless, I obliged. The dealer looked at my driver's license and then at me. She repeated this at least three times before summoning a pit boss. He took my license and held it up so he could view both it and my face at the same time.
"Wow, do you look young," he said. "You're an old man!"
"Thanks," I said, although this might have come out more like "Thanks?"
The pit boss handed me back my license and commented, "You sure have some good genes."
"Actually, I have a portrait of myself slowly aging in my attic," I said.
If crickets could have survived inside the casino, I'm sure I would have heard them chirping at that very moment.Posted by Doug at March 16, 2005 11:59 AM