Dear Stuart,

Art is an elderly gentleman I spend time with once every couple of weeks. We met through an organization that sets up younger people with seniors who have no immediate family or support in the area. I knew Art and I would be friends when our first meeting began with him suggesting we use his “senior status” to get free donuts from all of the donut shops in the area.

We usually go for a short walk before settling down in a coffee shop where Art recounts tales from his childhood and laments the state of U.S. politics. Art is a firm believer that politicians  have too much money, most of which would be better spent fixing the crack in his driveway.

Last Sunday, Art and I were to meet in a coffee shop. I arrived early to do some work. When Art came in, he started to mock me and my computer. “You young hippies always need to be tweeter-facing something!” he exclaimed. I told him that I was doing work and he yelled out, “on a Sunday?! Sunday is the day of rest. God says so.”

At this point it should be noted that Art has told me twice before that god does not exist.

Art asked if he could see what I was doing. I showed him the computer code that I had been working on for several months. He took my computer into his hands and started clicking things. At first I was scared, but he seemed to know what he was doing. I was impressed by his ability to handle a computer and was about to call him a hippie when he highlighted my entire code, said “F@#! work”, and hit the delete key.

As I sat there, frozen, he closed the window that once contained my code and, when prompted to save or not save, hit save.

At this point in time, I knocked his walker to the ground and pushed him off his chair.

Just kidding, Stuart. I think I sat there for a solid minute before he assured me that he “copied” the code and that he could restore it. However, instead of doing that, he decided to tell me about his daughter who never visits him.