During winter finals my sophomore year of veterinary college, a wiseacre tacked a National Enquirer article to the class bulletin board. The title, “Wealthy Octogenarian Seeks Young Woman for Matrimony” caught everyone’s attention, but it was the remark in the second paragraph, highlighted in yellow, that he’d like to wed a smart gal—preferably a veterinarian—which filled the hall with laughter.
The accompanying photo featured the wheelchair-bound gent being kissed on his bald pate by a buxomly, bikini-clad blonde. The denture-laden leer and liver-spotted hand caressing the babe’s bottom spoke volumes. Only gold diggers in search of a sugar-daddy would respond to such a brazen advertisement.
I should’ve called.
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