Pink-shirted dummy

My friend, Bengi, has been busy digitizing the artifacts from our past. Letters, photos, souvenirs, and other paraphernalia.

Some of it has been fantastic to see. A walk down memory lane. A blast from the past.

Most of it, in fact. He’s reminded me of an archeologist, unearthing ancient, forgotten history. I remember much of it, but occasionally he finds a photo or letter that makes no sense.

Then there are photos like these, which show young Matt, with an apparent affinity for a particular pink shirt, looking like a jackass in the company of two young women.

I can tell – just by looking – that the version of me that exists today would not have liked this younger version of myself. Perhaps I’m being harsh and overly judgmental, but I don’t think so. I want to warn those two young women, who I remember well, to beware the jackass in the pink shirt.

You can do better, ladies. The guy in those photos is trying too hard. He’s not yet worth your time. You can do better.

Oh, young Matt. What were you thinking?