I love the way old people show joy. Especially really old people, decrepit old, ones who don’t really have any muscle tissue left, just flapping sheets of skin hanging off their face.
They are utterly lacking in self-consciousness; their mouth leers into a jack-o-lantern of pleasure, they grin at passersby and make me feel like I have friends.
And then they will comment, without being previously engaged into conversation, on whatever is making them so happy:
Examples:
1. “OOH! Youth congregating in a park!”
2. “A wedding! I was married once!”
3. “Salad!”
Thank you old people, don’t ever stop. Well unless you die…which you will…pretty soon.
Awkward.
