When I am an old man I will wear elegantly cut and tailored suits and carry a gold-tipped walking stick. I will scowl imperiously at teenage boys and instruct them in posture, but smile wistfully at teenage girls. I will give my opinion calmly but formidably on nearly every subject under the sun, but I will tip well. I will visit the central library on saturday afternoons and be the strange old gentleman who reads those archaic paper books. I will still not know how to drive. I will still call my significant other "my boyfriend". I will eat dinner at least twice a week in lovely restaurant at a leisurely pace. I will live by the ocean and paint, badly. I will go to museums and be delighted, not horrified, at new trends in art and buy small, expensive knicknacks for my mantel and coffee table. I will learn a new language. I will tell people I love them and give unexpected gifts. I will sing.