Remember when the word “break” was used in a positive connotation, such as “spring break”? It’s something we don’t get in the real world. The corporate spring break equals one week of vacation, for the entire year. But when my 16-year-old niece came to visit me for her spring break, I pretended like I got one, too.

And while she was here, she kept getting hit on by men my age. You know, I feel bad for guys — it’s a cruel, mean joke that young girls often look like fully developed women. Shelby not only looks of legal age, but she also has bigger boobs than me.

Meanwhile, I came close to committing a sex crime myself recently …

Last Saturday, I hosted the Charlotte Style Magazine 25 Most Stylish benefit event at Ballantyne Hotel. My “thank you for hosting” goody bag contained about $300 worth of wrinkle and cellulite creams. Is someone trying to tell me something? Perhaps the universe is because, as of late, I’ve watched both wrinkles and cellulite start to sprout up on my body. It’s rather fascinating actually — like a reality show on Discovery Channel.

Afterward, we went to a nightspot in Ballantyne, which was as crowded and lively as the clubs Uptown. We were sitting at a table when a guy just came over and sat down with us. He ordered me a drink and we talked for a few — nothing of substance coming out of his mouth. Then he asked me how old I was … I knew right then and there that he was younger because he didn’t know better.

I told him to guess, and he said “21.” I laughed in his face … I am 29. That made me feel better about the bag full of anti-aging potions sitting on the table. I grabbed a bottle and handed it to him, saying “I’m old enough to need this!”

When he got up to go to the bathroom, his boy came over and told me he was only 19. Curious as to whether his friend was trying to cock-block him or save me from going to jail, I asked to see his ID.

Sure enough, he had a fake ID, and I was, in fact, getting hit on by a 19-year-old. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or freaked out.

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