The setting: A country restaurant in Meridianville, Ala.
The characters: An elderly couple, in their 70s or 80s.
The moment: As they were getting ready to leave, the husband walked slowly around the table to help his wife, who was using a cane and having a hard time getting up. As he carefully helped her get to her feet, he smirked and said, “Jump.” She giggled at him and they hobbled away, his hand on the small of her back.
I want to grow old with someone willing to keep making me laugh, and who’s not afraid of a light mocking every now and then. Pretty sure I’ve found him. He’s already poked fun at me for today’s basketball injury. Hell, I’m already halfway to old lady with this heating pad wrapped around my shoulder.
Entirely Adequate 
The setting: A downtown Mobile bar.
The mood: Mardi Gras, greasy and stinky with a hint of desperation.
A middle-aged man approaches a young lady who has become way too chummy with the business end of a bottle of Jagermeister. She sports a frayed Kid Rock T-shirt and a pair of very tight George jeans from Wal-Mart. Her eyes are the color of rancid buttermilk and peanut butter. Her companion sleeps on the bar in a puddle of his own drool.
“I’d love to grow old with you tonight,” the newcomer said to her.
“Hell, why not?” she replied. “I ain’t getting any younger and I gotta get the kids from Mama’s before she goes to work graveyard at the plant.”
“You got a car?” she asked before lurching toward the door.
“It ain’t like I’ve done worse,” she said, gesturing to her friend laid out on the bar. “You got a smoke?”
Moral: Growing old, it’s a relative thing.