If You're Up There ...

Dear Diety,

If I am blessed to live into my 60’s, I have a couple requests.

If you decide that my hair needs to recede, please don’t ever let me dye my hair jet black and grow a cheesy little moustache.

If you send me on a convention to the Four Seasons in Atlanta, please don’t let me walk through the gym there, dressed in a dandy suit with pocket square and silver bracelets, carrying a cocktail, and proceed to ogle the younger men who work out there. If I do wish to look at the boys at the gym, at least give me the foresight to pretend to work out and put on some gym clothes. Are cocktails appropriate in a gym area?

If I want to enjoy a sauna, please remind me not stare at the younger men and rub my chest as if I were giving myself a breast cancer self-examination.

If I decide to shave my balls at the gym, after having a cocktail tour and a steam, please remind me to go into the shower stall and not just stand there naked in front of a mirror with hotel shave cream on my sac and a disposable Bic razor. Better yet, maybe you could remind me to take care of said grooming in the privacy of my own home or hotel room.

Also, if I have more hair on my flabby old-man ass than my head, maybe you’d want to send a sign for me to do something about that.

Thanks for your time,

Bob

P.S. If you could send back Webelo-cap boy, I’d be much obliged.