A lady just walked over to my desk to tell me she had birthday cake. So I walk over and snag a piece. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste, of course.
As we are talking I ask, “so how old are you?” She makes a strange face and says, “I’d rather not say.”
I’m thinking that if you bring in a birthday cake for your own fucking birthday, you don’t have a right to make a puss face when someone asks how old you are.