Since senior year of high school I've worn, during the winter, a black trench coat. It's not the same one from back then. I've needed to periodically get a new one. To those who have known me for a long time, they can't imagine me wearing anything else on a cold winter day. Imagine John Constantine without his trench coat. Can't do it, right?
Here's the thing: every single fucking year I've gotten some kind of food stain on it. Whether it's mustard or ketchup or whatever. Without fail.
Until this year. Today I brought my trench coat to the cleaners to retire it for the year, and it didn't have a single stain on it. This is absolutely fucking crazy to me. From age 17 to age 43, that simply did not happen. At 44, it finally happened.
Shocking, I know. I'm still a little flabbergasted, myself. I didn't know that was possible.
Wow.
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