When I run into a friend I haven’t run into for a very long time, I find myself subconsciously rolling down my sleeves and raising my collar in a misguided attempt to conceal the scars and skin grafts.
Thank heavens I have the sense to always wear gloves, a low-brimmed hat, and sunglasses to block any view of what my thick beard and mustache doesn’t already obscure.
Underneath the layers of clothes, hair, and palm fronds strategically held by my manservant Richard, I ponder how to address this long-lost friend properly.
“Hello,” I shout, tip my hat, and I run.