Insider’s got the nubs. No, it’s not a disease. His entire body is covered with hundreds of tiny green cotton balls from a recently purchased bath towel. He just returned from the shower and a glance in the mirror to enjoy his good looks revealed several fuzzy green dots decorating his eyebrows, hair and body. A couple of days ago, the nubs were burgundy from the other new towel he bought. Thursday the old guy was in his executive mode, sitting in his plus office making believe he was really interested in what he was typing on his old Underwood. He wrote and stared and when he looked in the mirror by his desk to remind himself how handsome he was he saw both nostrils covered with burgundy fuzz. When he bought the towels (both on sale), he was looking for plush luxury only to find out the plush was nothing but fuzzballs to give an illusion of plush luxury. He suspects when all the fuzzy nubs are gone he’ll wind up with just another kitchen towel. In shopping through the towel and sheet departments, Insider has noticed the lines “180 count” and “200 count” on a lot of the merchandise. Could that be the number of nubs per square inch? He wonders. He does know he has a condition right now so, until it is cleared up, please excuse his nubs.
The old guy is not much of a drinker. He does not like anything that makes him lose control of anything, particularly anything to do with himself. Insider prefers to watch people drink and observe what happens to them over time. When he used to frequent bars when he was a bachelor, he often would observe the loudest, most obnoxious person, mostly a man but sometimes a woman. Nearly every time the person who was making a fool of himself or herself seemed to be drinking the hard stuff rather than beer or wine. Insider’s father, who was an alcoholic, used to tell him when he was a young-timer, “if you can’t handle the sauce, stick with the light stuff.” The old guy never knew exactly what his father was talking about because he never seemed to be able to handle his alcohol. Later in life, after he was long gone, he figured he must have been talking beer and wine. That’s why he always stuck with the beer and wine when he was a bar frequenter and he is proud to say he never got drunk in public. He always worried about losing control of his body or mouth if he had too many. The only time he likes to get gay off booze is on New Year’s Eve when he buys a bottle of kahlua and mixes it with his coffee so he can stay up late.