On The Future

Last week I saw a man, mid-forties, talking to his woman-person as they exited the local supermarket. Pushing their cart, he hopped onto the back and rode downhill the dozen or so feet to their car.

In one sense, it gives me hope for my future as the type of man who will still enjoy riding downhill on the back of a shopping cart when I'm pushing fifty.

In another sense, it irks me that when I'm pushing fifty, I'm still likely to be doing stupid shit like that in an effort to artificially inject some livelihood in to asexual relationships that will never be as intimate as I'd like.