By Rufus Mudsucker (bio)

Being a 42 year old rent to own maven has never bothered me before. When I look in the mirror I still see the teenager I was when I wrote my first agreement for a top-loading VCR...and then I got the following call.

Ring, ring. "Rufus Mudsucker's Rent Emporium, this is Rufus may I help you?"

Female Caller: "My name is Mary, I rented a big screen TV the other day. I need to speak to...uh...I can't remember his name...oh you know, the cute one."

This is obviously an observant women with very sophisticated taste. Not that I need an ego boost you understand, but it's nice to still be considered "cute" after 23,000 D's. But then I wonder, how do I respond? My alter boy upbringing prohibits vanity so I opt for a cheerful "How can I help you?"

Female Caller: "[long silence]...actually I don't think it's you."

The Southwest Airlines "Want to get away" TV commercial flashes through my brain. I have two options. Hold the receiver away from my mouth, make a static sound and hang up. Or swallow what's left of my pride and attempt to identify the cute employee. I am uncomfortable with either option on several levels. Before I can formulate a response, the caller asks impatiently...

Female Caller: "Which one are you, the cute one, the big one, or the old one?"

I mentioned earlier that I am 42. Or at least I was until the phone rang. Now I'm a bald, 85 year old in a walker. "I'm the old one", I mumbled.

Female Caller: "When will the cute one be back? You know, the thin one with the hair."

Mental note: Call Shady Acres Retirement Village to get some resumes.

"The big one is making a delivery, the cute one is at the bank. Big should be back in an hour or so. Cute should be here in a few minutes. I'm Old, can I take a message?"

Female Caller speaking very slowly so as not to confuse the Old one: "Tell him to call Mary at 555-5555 about a users manual for the TV. Did you get that?"

As I stood there staring at the receiver, Cute walked in. I briefly considered firing him. "It's for you" I said handing him the phone.

I listened to the conversation and suddenly realized they were speaking a different language. I heard words like phat, bad and bling-bling all in the same sentence.

Just then I heard the familiar "You've got mail" ring on my computer. It was my wife reminding me to stop by Walgreen's to pick up my prescriptions. And While I'm there "we're almost out of Metamucil."

Cute hung up the phone and asked for my opinion about a long time customer who was planning to move but was 7 days past due. "How should I handle it?" he asked.

I suppose wisdom is not such a bad trade for youth.