Last week as a Longwood Gardens volunteer, I was talking with a pretty, perky girl I would guess was in her early 30s. She, too, writes a blog but is also an associate editor for a regional magazine, so she is a bona fide writer, unlike an amateur like me. She was there with her boyfriend (or just friend) who was also pleasant and interesting. We talked excitedly about writing for about 15 minutes, and when we parted, I said how much I enjoyed talking with her. She said she also enjoyed our conversation. “I just love talking with old people!”
(Drumroll and rimshot) Hi-O!
I agree and only thought of her parting comment much later. Old people to me are in their 90s, and I often enjoy talking with the poor dears, too (although I prefer young chicks who have yet to comprehend life is a movie, not a snapshot).