Update
Grandpa took me up on my offer. He’s taking the red eye to New York with his octogenarian man-friend and will be sitting in the fourth row.
I hope that, if I can spot him from the stage, I don’t tell the entire audience about this special guest. I tend to have verbal diarrhea problems like that when someone hands me a microphone.
“Octogenarian” FTW.
Almost a tricenarian myself, I don’t know what FTW means.
Oh man, this is embarrassing.