By Angela Hardin, via text 4/20/24 9:53 am Imagine. A probably 68-70 year old man. Glasses. Waxed down wispy hair on top, and a narrow ring around the outside. Thin and upright. Wearing a black leather jacket zipped halfway over a starched white button up. Straight cut, fitted starched jeans. Tight but not too tight. Strutting into the grocery store like Tony Manero in his alligator boots on an apparent rebuilt heel. I presume all of his attire is original from the eighties and that he takes his jeans to the cleaners to have pressed. Nothing about him was slouchy. He rolls into the check out with a case of Guinness and asks for a pack of Camel!  I thought to myself, “This’ll go quick with two items and I can get out too” so I get in line behind him.  Nope. He pulls out HIS CHECKBOOK!  I’m like…. Um…… but I said hi so I can’t back out now. I gotta stand there and wait for him to write it out and ask what the total was twice😵‍💫  I was done in less than 90 seconds and bop out to the car. I notice he is corralling his buggy. And then he gets into a jeep. Like old school jeep. Like he probably bought new in the seventies. No top.  IT’S RAINING.  It has been raining so it’s not like this should have…