Conversations with an Octogenarian

There's a very old, very skinny Chinese man that I see in my neighbourhood occasionally. He must be about 80, with large decaying teeth and a thinning grey comb over, always carrying something in a plastic grocery bag. Every time I see him he stops me in the street and tells me in a direct business like fashion that I'm very very beautiful. I generally thank him for the compliment and try to direct the conversation into more interesting channels. He will not be diverted! He ignores every comment unrelated to my physical appearance.

I

And near the end of our dialogue he always extracts a strange promise from me. "Will you promise me something?" he always asks.

I

"Uh, sure."

I

"Promise me you'll get even more beautiful."

I

I chuckle uncertainly. "I'll try."

I

"No! Don't try." And reminiscent of Yoda he admonishes, "Either do it or don't do it."

I

Either get more beautiful or get more ugly? With these limited options I choose the less offensive of the two. "Ok, I'll do it."

I

Then he smiles his toothy smile and putters off in a self satisfied way, as if he had just accomplished his goal for the day.