Traveling with the Ancient.
We are in Key West. As we passed the many tourist traps hawking skin rejuvenation, my almost 86 year old mother, who wears her wrinkles proudly and whose skin’s elasticity might be compared to the equivalent retained by my panty hose after a long day on the trade show floor, was twice called my sister by these sales people. In terms of salesmanship, it’s quite devious in flattering the old person, while subtly getting me to spend my entire 401k on moisturizer due to the intended diss. However, they didn’t know who they were dealing with, as I’ve already embraced my puppet mouth and kitty ass lips, while my mom told each of them that to remove her wrinkles at this point, she’d have more success in Home Depot buying spackle. We didn’t even get t-shirts to commemorate the stop.
Rubber Chicken 