"I'm going back to the age room," I say, tugging my shirt in a vain attempt to cover up the new me. "I've always been curious, whether I'd grow old gracefully like my mom, or fight it hard like my aunt. Since I've got the time and the opportunity, I should try them both on, don't you think?"
The teen pushes his chair back from the table and stands with a groan. "Well, Cindy, I hope you have a wonderful time. I think, after I'm back to fighting weight, I may just try on a pair of boobs. Maybe we'll meet again?" He exits with a wink. It's good to know that even as a pudgy 44-year-old I've got some je nes sais quoi. Maybe I could just tag with him instead...?
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