Going for Gold

Source: Diary of an Old Liar and Braggart.

Crossing the finish line, I was greeted by an angel handing me a gold medal and Saint Peter holding the keys. We seniors are resistant to novelty and changing addresses, so, a bit annoyed, I asked where the bottle of Champagne was. The angel replied that it wasn't part of the protocol, and I thought to myself that I had ended up in an asylum. Fatal mistake: angels are telepathic and read minds. Very politely, they told me there had been a mistake and dumped me in Purgatory for 200 years. But it's not so bad here... plus, they told me that in Heaven, all that gold would have barely bought me a coffee.