The Cool Guy

The Cool Guy

"You’re not wearing that, are you?" Sammi asked, mockingly.

"Yes, I am. This was the height of fashion then." I said, smiling as the memories flooded back: the music, the dancing, the soft lighting.

"I met your mother while I was wearing this jacket." I told my smirking daughter.

Teenagers: they think they’re the only ones who know what it’s like to be young.

"She was in love with me," I said, "and I draped this jacket around her shoulders when I walked her home."

"You must have been cool back then, dad." Sammi smiled.

"Yeah, I was." I agreed

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