Pass Thirty and Collect $500

Marching inexorably into your mid-thirties is far from a reason to celebrate. Just about everything's starting to sag, your vaunted metabolism just isn't what it used to be and that sexy barista you just flirted with could be young enough to be a ... nephew.

Short of having shockingly premature sexual intercourse - or indulging in pedophilia, I couldn't possibly be lusting after someone young enough to be my son.


Nephew mine?
But thankfully there are some perks that come with age. Career-wise, it couldn't be better. We're finally up there - not at the top yet somewhere right smack in middle management - and we're rightly able to stroll nonchalantly out of the office without a nervous qualm. Notice I said stroll out and not sneak. Certainly no reason for furtiveness when everyone else on the floor depends on you for that all-important year-end bonus.

At least that's true for my more fortunate ( and not medically-inclined ) peers.

So there you have my ISO, the Beercan Boy and me. Carousing over brunch at barely 11 am on a full working day.

My ISO : It's your birthday but there's something even more momentous. Beercan Boy actually crushed an assistant.
Paul : Tell me more!
Beercan : No, I didn't! I just told her that her work needed improvement.
Paul : Ouch.
My ISO : Yes, from you that's a major spanking.
Paul : That's like me saying 'If you don't get better, you can take an extended leave starting tomorrow.'
My ISO : Or 'Buck up bitch,' from me.

Seriously. Beercan has a personal assistant. When did we get here along the way?