He: “This song is great! It’s from 1987!”
Me: “Great year. I graduated high school in ’87.”
She: “I’ll refrain from telling you when I graduated from high school.”
Me: “Okay, that’s it! I’m going to sulk over there.”
She B: “What’s wrong?”
Me: “She refrained from telling me when she graduated, ostensibly to keep me from feeling old, but in reality, doing the opposite.”
She B: “Oh. When did you graduate?”
Me: “1987.”
She B: “Me, too.”
Me: “That’s why I’m sitting over here. I need to barricade myself from the tyranny of the younger.”
He B: “Uh-oh.”
Me: “Yes?”
He B: “I graduated in 1984.”
Me: “Well, that’s okay. I know people who graduated in 1984. They’re good people.”
He B: “I’m glad to hear it.”
Me: “I think some of them even went on to lead productive lives.”
He B: “Okay, that’s it! Where do I go to sulk?!”
