Saturday night I worked the registration table at my baby sister's 30-year class reunion. From where I was sitting, I could see the smokers outside the front glass sliding doors. At one point, I thought I noticed a few of the guys looking in at our registration table and they seemed to be talking about us, but I told myself, "Seriously, Laurie, not everything is about you."
Right about the time I had that thought, one of the guys broke off from the pack, came through the automatic glass doors, walked right up to me, looked at my nametag and said, "Class of '74?"
I said, "Yep. Class of '74."
I thought he was going to ask if I knew a brother or sister that might have also graduated in 1974.
Instead, in typical southeast Texas fashion, he said, "That's some old shit right there."
Keep in mind that he was there attending the reunion for the Class of 1980. His shit is not that much younger than my shit.
When he saw the surprised look on my face, he said, "No....I mean... I meant...you look good. 1974. That's old. I mean...."
I said, "You sure do know how to talk to the ladies."
Poor fella, mumbled a little more then went back outside probably to pay up on the bet he just lost.
Moral of the story: If you're trying to tell a woman she looks good for her age, stay away from the words "shit" and "old", not necessarily in that order.