OrangeWhoopass.com Forums
General Discussion => Beer and Queso => Topic started by: VirtualBob on December 02, 2011, 04:11:40 am
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I have to share this story somewhere, and given the warm welcome so common here, I chose this venue. Before I start, though, I should point out that I am happily married. Not only that, but I reject all the crap about "window shopping" being OK or "look don't touch" or "it doesn't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home." That said, though, I am not blind.
So I'm headed in to work this morning and as I enter the U-Bahn station I notice that a fellow passenger 20 yards or so in front of me is doing an excellent job at filling out her skinny jeans. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covered by a short leather jacket completed the picture of youth & vitality (to say nothing of sexuality). The train was crowded and as we entered the same car more or less together I took up my stance at the end of the compartment near the pole that everyone is supposed to hold on to. She took the fold-down seat just to my left ... the last available "Sitzplatz". As we both settled in, we made brief eye contact.
Remember -- happily married; no fantasies here, though I did smile slightly in a friendly way. Then it happened.
She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Arrgghhhhh I really hate getting old.
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I have to share this story somewhere, and given the warm welcome so common here, I chose this venue. Before I start, though, I should point out that I am happily married. Not only that, but I reject all the crap about "window shopping" being OK or "look don't touch" or "it doesn't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home." That said, though, I am not blind.
So I'm headed in to work this morning and as I enter the U-Bahn station I notice that a fellow passenger 20 yards or so in front of me is doing an excellent job at filling out her skinny jeans. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covered by a short leather jacket completed the picture of youth & vitality (to say nothing of sexuality). The train was crowded and as we entered the same car more or less together I took up my stance at the end of the compartment near the pole that everyone is supposed to hold on to. She took the fold-down seat just to my left ... the last available "Sitzplatz". As we both settled in, we made brief eye contact.
Remember -- happily married; no fantasies here, though I did smile slightly in a friendly way. Then it happened.
She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Arrgghhhhh I really hate getting old.
GREAT story, Bob!
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That is awesome. Thanks for the chuckle, Bob.
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I have to share this story somewhere, and given the warm welcome so common here, I chose this venue. Before I start, though, I should point out that I am happily married. Not only that, but I reject all the crap about "window shopping" being OK or "look don't touch" or "it doesn't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home." That said, though, I am not blind.
So I'm headed in to work this morning and as I enter the U-Bahn station I notice that a fellow passenger 20 yards or so in front of me is doing an excellent job at filling out her skinny jeans. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covered by a short leather jacket completed the picture of youth & vitality (to say nothing of sexuality). The train was crowded and as we entered the same car more or less together I took up my stance at the end of the compartment near the pole that everyone is supposed to hold on to. She took the fold-down seat just to my left ... the last available "Sitzplatz". As we both settled in, we made brief eye contact.
Remember -- happily married; no fantasies here, though I did smile slightly in a friendly way. Then it happened.
She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Arrgghhhhh I really hate getting old.
That's a fantastic story, Bob. It's the exact opposite of my wife getting carded 3 years ago. She STILL talks about it. I can't bring myself to tell her that the establishment cards everyone.
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I have to share this story somewhere, and given the warm welcome so common here, I chose this venue. Before I start, though, I should point out that I am happily married. Not only that, but I reject all the crap about "window shopping" being OK or "look don't touch" or "it doesn't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home." That said, though, I am not blind.
So I'm headed in to work this morning and as I enter the U-Bahn station I notice that a fellow passenger 20 yards or so in front of me is doing an excellent job at filling out her skinny jeans. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covered by a short leather jacket completed the picture of youth & vitality (to say nothing of sexuality). The train was crowded and as we entered the same car more or less together I took up my stance at the end of the compartment near the pole that everyone is supposed to hold on to. She took the fold-down seat just to my left ... the last available "Sitzplatz". As we both settled in, we made brief eye contact.
Remember -- happily married; no fantasies here, though I did smile slightly in a friendly way. Then it happened.
She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Arrgghhhhh I really hate getting old.
That's fantastic!
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I have to share this story somewhere, and given the warm welcome so common here, I chose this venue. Before I start, though, I should point out that I am happily married. Not only that, but I reject all the crap about "window shopping" being OK or "look don't touch" or "it doesn't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home." That said, though, I am not blind.
So I'm headed in to work this morning and as I enter the U-Bahn station I notice that a fellow passenger 20 yards or so in front of me is doing an excellent job at filling out her skinny jeans. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covered by a short leather jacket completed the picture of youth & vitality (to say nothing of sexuality). The train was crowded and as we entered the same car more or less together I took up my stance at the end of the compartment near the pole that everyone is supposed to hold on to. She took the fold-down seat just to my left ... the last available "Sitzplatz". As we both settled in, we made brief eye contact.
Remember -- happily married; no fantasies here, though I did smile slightly in a friendly way. Then it happened.
She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Arrgghhhhh I really hate getting old.
Outstanding! Now I won't feel so bad when it happens to me.
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Time flies when you're having fun--and even when you're not.
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She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Unless that's followed with "on my face", there's no good coming from it.
Also... (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lz-z_TeJObU)
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I knew I was done when sometime in my late twenties a cute college aged girl replied "yes, sir" to me at a party, which my wife still finds hilarious.
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I knew I was done when sometime in my late twenties a cute college aged girl replied "yes, sir" to me at a party, which my wife still finds hilarious.
You mean you don't make your wife say "yes sir"?
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I have to share this story somewhere, and given the warm welcome so common here, I chose this venue. Before I start, though, I should point out that I am happily married. Not only that, but I reject all the crap about "window shopping" being OK or "look don't touch" or "it doesn't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home." That said, though, I am not blind.
So I'm headed in to work this morning and as I enter the U-Bahn station I notice that a fellow passenger 20 yards or so in front of me is doing an excellent job at filling out her skinny jeans. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covered by a short leather jacket completed the picture of youth & vitality (to say nothing of sexuality). The train was crowded and as we entered the same car more or less together I took up my stance at the end of the compartment near the pole that everyone is supposed to hold on to. She took the fold-down seat just to my left ... the last available "Sitzplatz". As we both settled in, we made brief eye contact.
Remember -- happily married; no fantasies here, though I did smile slightly in a friendly way. Then it happened.
She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Arrgghhhhh I really hate getting old.
I've been laughing at this all day. Thank you.
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Unless that's followed with "on my face", there's no good coming from it.
Yeah ... it didn't sound like that was where she was going with the comment.
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She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Unless that's followed with "on my face", there's no good coming from it.
You want a lovely young lady to ask you to sit on her face? I'm going to assume that's another quaint British eccentricity, and just leave it be.
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I have to share this story somewhere, and given the warm welcome so common here, I chose this venue. Before I start, though, I should point out that I am happily married. Not only that, but I reject all the crap about "window shopping" being OK or "look don't touch" or "it doesn't matter where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home." That said, though, I am not blind.
So I'm headed in to work this morning and as I enter the U-Bahn station I notice that a fellow passenger 20 yards or so in front of me is doing an excellent job at filling out her skinny jeans. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covered by a short leather jacket completed the picture of youth & vitality (to say nothing of sexuality). The train was crowded and as we entered the same car more or less together I took up my stance at the end of the compartment near the pole that everyone is supposed to hold on to. She took the fold-down seat just to my left ... the last available "Sitzplatz". As we both settled in, we made brief eye contact.
Remember -- happily married; no fantasies here, though I did smile slightly in a friendly way. Then it happened.
She got a worried look on her face and said something to the effect of, "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
Arrgghhhhh I really hate getting old.
So did you sit on her lap?
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For me, it came in two stages:
1) at 45, no more head-turns on the Manhattan sidewalks
2) at 50, the "sir" bit at work, in the gym, etc exactly as with Bob's take here
But, I'm looking forward to 55, when it all flips back to me, as the leggy Russian supermodels all believe they can play me like a violin.
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But, I'm looking forward to 55, when it all flips back to me, as the leggy Russian supermodels all believe they can play me like a violin.
I've got some bad news for you.
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I've got some bad news for you.
short songs?
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short songs?
[Golf clap]
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i understand the whole story and share in the feelings my baby daughter is now 25