One of those days of age, similar to others. Sitting on the bus, in the front courtesy seats. Must have looked so old that others standing thought that only those in my age cohort should sit beside. Empty seat beside, as a consequence.
Run into colleague on the street. “I will be 85 in a few days,” he says. “How old are you?”
“You look as old as I am,” he said, jokingly.
Or, as Mitch Ryder says: