He was an old man. A very smart old man. Very smart. Older than me, twice my age, in fact. His assistant asked me to strip down to my load-bearing navy blue bra and totally-not-matching neon orange granny-panties, but also, cover my skivvies in a Paper poncho and paper wrap-around skirt. He looked at the weird mole on my calf, gave me an analogy that began with, "I'll use bug bites as an