Bill takes out the garbage for my apartment building, like a super, except that’s all he does in that capacity: he takes out the garbage and nothing else.
“I like to play this game when I go out to bars,” he tells me as he’s hauling the trash to the curb. “I tell the bouncer, ‘If I'm less than twenty years older than you, I’ll pay double, but,” he stops and puts up his hand, like he’s swearing an oath, "if I’m right, and I’m twenty years older than you, or more, then I don’t pay to get in.”
He looks pretty good for his age, dark hair, no grays, sort of indeterminate Mediterranean face that looks kinda old starting in their mid-thirties and just settles into that, so I tell him, “I bet you win that game a lot."
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