Sixty Five

Having reached the age of 65, I went to apply for Social Security last week. After waiting in line for a very long time, I finally got to the counter. The woman there asked me fo r my driver's license to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized, to my great dismay, that I had left my wallet on the nightstand in my bedroom. I told the lady that I was very sorry, but I seemed to have left my wallet at home. "I'll have to go get it and come back later," I said. At that point, she said to me, "Unbutton your shirt." I was confused, but I opened my shirt, revealing lots of curly silver hair. She said, "That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me," and, with that, she promptly processed my application. When I got home, I couldn't wait to tell my wife about my experience at the Social Security office. She listened to the whol e story and then said, "You should have dropped your pants . . . you might have gotten disability, too."