Our team secretary turned thirty recently. She brought cakes, which were demolished by investment professionals in sore need of a sugar rush. When I stopped by her desk to felicitate her on her achievement, she was clutching her head in despair.
'Why so despondent?' quoth I.
'It's the end,' she moaned. 'It's all downhill now.'
'Oh come on,' I said. 'It is not that bad. You're still young.'
'How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?' she said.
'Forty-two,' said I.
'Well, you, um, you look, er, younger than that,' she said.
Clearly, her innate honesty was struggling against her tact.
'You look,' she began again, and her voice faltered. 'You look about, er, thirty-five.'
I burst out laughing. She went back to clutching her head.
'Why so despondent?' quoth I.
'It's the end,' she moaned. 'It's all downhill now.'
'Oh come on,' I said. 'It is not that bad. You're still young.'
She looked at me in disbelief. Then she looked at my bald head, and cheered up momentarily.
'How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?' she said.
'Forty-two,' said I.
'Well, you, um, you look, er, younger than that,' she said.
Clearly, her innate honesty was struggling against her tact.
'You look,' she began again, and her voice faltered. 'You look about, er, thirty-five.'
I burst out laughing. She went back to clutching her head.
2 comments:
I remembered a gag from an Asterix comic that involved a druid telling another, "this potion makes me feel twenty years younger" and the other one responds, "well, that still makes you 120".
thanks, km. i'll let the secretary know. following which, this may well be my last response...
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