It would explain the black eye...

Me: So... Aren't you due for a birthday this month?
Bubblegoose: Just had one. April 6th.
Me: Wow, you're 29. Aren't you freaking out about turning 30 next year?
Bubblegoose: I skydive for a living. Stef and I love each other. We're just gonna go with it. Not to be mean, but I don't work in a cubicle all day where I'd have time to think about that. I'm happy. I like what I do. If that were an age, that's what I would be.
Me: Humpf. You sound all like free-thinking hippie who lives in Boulder. No tradition, no rules, you just make things up for yourself.
Bubblegoose: I hate that word, hippie. It reminds me of patchouli oil. Ugh. If I'm ever around anyone wearing patchouli oil, I'll punch 'em in the face!
Me: Maybe I'll just send you some Birkenstocks and beads.
Bubblegoose: I have some.