“Halfway to eighty” Charlie muttered aloud to himself as he glowered into the bathroom mirror. The pallor of the fluorescent light doing nothing to appease his distaste at the vision before him.
Charlie was under no illusions, he had never exactly been a catch, but he was no blind pessimist. Fluorescent lights didn’t bring out the best in anyone and he knew that under the right conditions he looked ok.
Not bad anyway.
How much longer though?
How much longer could he coast by on one night stands, enamoured by his fat wallet and passable looks?