spunk kills

Scene: I walk into work and speak to one of my favorites in the office, who occupies the cube behind mine. Ron, a widower, is in his late 40s or early 50s...just as cute and sweet as he wants to be. He has 3 of the most darling and polite young boys that I have ever met. Anyway, Ron has been courting this lady, who isn't that much older than me, and I just love to hear him talk about how enamored he is with her. He has yet to tell her how he feels.

LB: Hey Ron! How was your date?

Ron: Well, we had to reschedule.

LB: Awwww, I was really looking forward to some juicy details, since I live vicariously through you now.

Ron: Don't say that. Yeah, I was looking forward to it too, but Pam's grandmother died so she's a little preoccupied.

LB: Wow, I'm sorry to hear that.

Ron: She was 80 y/o.

LB: So, natural causes?

Ron: About as natural as her feeling a little frisky and wanting to entice her husband into bed. One night while standing by the staircase, she lifted up her nightgown to flash him and then fell backward and broke her hip. She died shortly after surgery due to complications.

LB: **blank stare** You're serious?

Ron: **controlled snicker...barely maintaining composure** I sure am.

LB: **snicker slips out and guilt hovers over** Dag! I can only hope that I have that much spunk when I'm 80 y/o

...and that I'm living in a rancher.

May she rest in peace...