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Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Baby Face

One of the key differences between my room mate and myself is the ability to grow facial hair. One of us is blessed with the beard growing capability of a lumberjack while the other will probably keep his boyish good looks until he's fifty. All this despite the fact that my room mate is three years older than I am. The fact that he looks very young for being one of the oldest people I hang out with is another of the running jokes that provide us (mostly me) with constant amusement.

Baby faced, but with an old soul.

Here are a few anecdotes revolving around the paradox of Old/Young Room Mate.

My room mate is currently twenty five and a half years old, but looks like one of those actors who portray unrealistically mature and attractive high school students on television. This creates problems for him at times.

This dude was twenty four years old, playing a senior in high school.

About a year or so ago, he was out on a date with an older woman. And by older woman, I mean she was like 26 or something. Not a huge difference, but she was hesitant about going out with somebody younger than her. He tried to convince her that it wasn't that big a deal. And it almost worked, until they got to the movie theater.

They went to see an R-rated movie, not sure which one, but it really doesn't matter. The ticket attendant said, "Can I see your I.D. please?" Thinking that she meant his student I.D. for the student discount he handed it to her. She was like, "No. Your driver's license." He wasn't able to convince a ticket attendant that he was at least seventeen years old.

He goes by one name, like Madonna. Or Seal.

Next story.

We went back to Raleigh for a First Friday event one time, and it was just another chance for him to be picked on. There was him, me and a friend of his. Both the friend and I have some facial hair. As we went into a bar, the friend and I went in no problem. Guess who got carded. Not us.

Then as we walked around downtown, we ran into a few frat boys, probably twenty, maybe twenty two. Pink polo T-shirts and everything. They were drunk. My room mate was wearing a small back pack with some extra bike parts. Seeing this, the frat boys were like, "Is there alcohol in that back pack?" My room mate replied that no, there was none.

Who's got two thumbs and is a douche bag? This guy!

Frat boys immediately yell, "Freshman!" and proceed to tell us where we can get some alcohol. My room mate then attempted to explain that he was actually a second year graduate student, and older than they were.

Frat boys' response? "It's okay man, we were freshman once too. It happens to everybody."

After this stunning verbal riposte, they shamble off, probably to enlighten more people on where you can procure alcohol underage.

Yeah!

Back in the fall, my room mate got a letter from the AARP in the mail, filled out to his name. For those of you who don't know, you have to be at least fifty years old to get membership in the AARP.

"Alien" came out three decades ago.

As much as I wish that I had signed him up for this, I did not. Whoever did though, has a place in my heart.

He used to take Centrum Performance vitamins. Now, whenever I hear Centrum, I think of the Centrum Silver vitamins. Old people jokes ensue. Then, they took the ginkgo out of the Performance brand, the main reason why he took them. Because he has bad memory, like an old person. He had to switch to Centrum 50+.

Next stop: Poligrip discount coupons.

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