> As we settled in, George asked about my life and how I was feeling.
> “I’m good. Busy!"
> He stared blankly through my empty words.
> Feeling the pressure of his gaze, I adjusted myself and added that living in California had begun to wear on me, it being so far from my parents on the East Coast.
> George: “How often do you see your parents?"
> Me: “Maybe once a year now.”
> George: “And how old are they?"
> Me: “Mid-sixties."
> George: “Ok, so you’re going to see them 15 more times before they die.”
...
> It wasn’t meant to be rude—it was just…math.
There's something to think about in all this but I really can't get over imagining what a weird dude George is.