He gave me a hard, piercing look, his eyes not leaving mine even as he took a long pull from his Stella Artois. I stared right back at him, daring him to say the wrong thing.
"Well for starters, you're 26."
Wrong, you're so wrong.
"And...you seem really put-together, prim, proper, a real sweetheart."
Still incorrect.
"But you seem to have this....evil side to you..."
"Evil? What do you mean by that?"
"You seem like you have been really repressed...not evil in the conventional sense...but some part of you has been suppressed and its dying to come out."
Ain't it the truth.

Later his friend, an older, grayer version of himself, imparted a bit of wisdom gleaned from his life of fifty-five years:
1. Hard Work- if you want it, don't think that you can take shortcuts.
2. Have a mentor- figure out what you want to do, then find someone older who can support you and guide you.
3. Marry someone who is your best friend and intellectual match-beauty can only go so far.

So there you go folks.