The woman furrowed her brow. "Think of that yourself?"
She conceded, with a nod, "Not bad,.
The man shrugged. "Pretty sure my dad had one. Not sure what they called it back then. Got into his late forties and just...changed. Family took a backseat. Even as a kid, I could see he was having an affair or something. Always at the golf course, supposedly. Came home showered a lot." The man took a drink from his beer. "It was like all the pressure that had been on him all his life finally got to him. Pressure to be a doctor. Pressure to be a husband. Pressure to be a father."
"I'm sure it wasn't easy."
"Don't let him off the hook."
"I'm not," the woman said. "It's just not easy getting older,"
"No, it's not. But it's better than the alternative."
The woman sighed. "God, I hate that trope."
"Age is just a number," she said.
"I hate that trope."
"The wife says it a lot."
"It's the truth," the woman said. "Think she really believes it?"
He straightened up for a moment. "That's a good question. I know she definitely wants to believe it. But I think she does believe it, too."
"It's not something people of a certain age like to talk about."
"Maybe men and women just talk about it in different ways."
"I don't think so."
"Men like to reminisce," he said. "About the things they did when they were young. Off-roading in your parents Mercedes, getting blitzed at a college party, still trying to piece together what might've happened, donut fights speeding around town on your mopeds." He looked at the woman. "Reminiscing, reliving past semi-glory is kind of a guy way of dealing with age. The idea that they could still go out and do those crazy things..."
"Flirting with the hot young waitress?"
"No," he said. "I tink that a women's thing. Not that you ladies are all trying to rbing home that young buck. But more that, if you wanted to, you could."
"You have us all figured out," the woman said.
"No," he said. "Just women of a certain age."
She smirked. "Not the young ones?"
"Oh, they're a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an puzzle."
The woman slow-clapped her hands. "Well done, well done. Quoting Churchill."
They tapped their glasses, and took a drink. When both were done, the woman said, "Enigma."
"Inside an enigma," she said. "That's the quote."
The man shook his head. "Yeah, you are persickety."