Still Got It

My husband had decided to walk home from the train the other night. At the last minute, I thought I'd meet him halfway, so still wearing my workout pants and my hoodie, I headed out. Maybe it was because the night was so crisp and I was walking with a real spring in my step, or maybe I was pulling down too much on my hoodie (hands in pockets) so that my breastal region was a bit more significantly on show than usual, but the most wonderful thing happened.

Now, let me preface this by saying I'm not twenty. Not forty. Hell, I passed 50 already. I could stand to lose a few pounds. My hair was a bit past its regular cut. It was late. No makeup. No fuss, no bother.

A young man, perhaps in his early thirties, was approaching me on his bicycle. (Well, a Maserati would have been nicer but then he wouldn't have had the full picture, would he?) As he came closer, he let out a "uh-huh", not one of those confused ones but a "hmmm, what have we here?" kind of uh-huh. Then, as he went past, he said "Whassup?" I couldn't help it, I started to laugh. And I kept the smile from that laughter all the way up to my husband, who pulled me into a hug and got a bit of uh-huh of his own.