Page 18 of Infatuation

“Hey, at least I’m not running around quoting Plato all the time.”

“What’s wrong with Plato?” she writes.

“Hang around my crazy-ass brother for a day and you’ll see.”

“LOL. Okay.”

“Oh, I just thought of another one I say all the time. ‘Under-promise and over-perform.’”

“Oh, words to live by,” she writes.

“I do. Religiously.”

“Interesting.”

“So is that it?” I write. “I can say all that stuff, just not YOLO?”

“Correct. Just not YOLO. EVER. Though you CAN say the actual words ‘you only live once.’ Just not ‘YOLO.’”

“So many fucking rules. Jesus.”

“Dude, I don’t make the rules. I just enforce them.”

I laugh out loud.

“And for God’s sake don’t get a YOLO tattoo!” she writes. “Promise me!”

I burst out laughing. “I make no such promise.”

“Don’t do it!”

“How about a YOLO tattoo on my ass? Can I do that?”

“LOL! The absolute worst possible scenario! DO NOT DO IT! TOTALLY AGAINST THE RULES!!!!”

I can’t stop laughing. “There’s something you really should know about me, PG: I like breaking rules.”

“Do what you must, but you’ve been warned. A YOLO tattoo is social suicide.”

I laugh again. “Okay. Good to know. So what other really uncool things should I avoid like the plague besides a YOLO tattoo on my ass? Help an old man out.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty,” I write.

“Holy shitballs! Where’s your walker?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Aw, just a kitten.”

“Meow.”

“This is good. I need help from a whippersnapper like yourself to keep me in the cool. What else should I absolutely avoid, according to these rules of yours?

“Not MY rules. They’re just THE rules.”

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