It was a long time coming. Everyone knew it, yet very few were prepared. Y2K was months away. The Grown-Ass Man adjusted his pants, pulling them up. They were falling due to the absence of a prominent buttocks and the lack of a belt. In so many words, this was what he thought about the crisis.
He was in the middle of Grown-Ass Mansplaining something to an uninterested young lady. This is how he expressed himself: “Seriously. Seriously? Why would a grown-ass man like myself read a comic book? I am not an ignorant child. What I hold in my hand is the higher art form, like the epic poem is to the simple limerick, it is the novel unraveled with graphic images.”
If he had bothered to look up once while speaking, he would have noticed that she walked away the moment he started to speak.
No one ever bothered to tell The Grown-Ass man that adulthood does not entitle one to maturity or intelligence.