This week I had a very disturbing experience: I was offered a senior citizen discount at my grocery store! I’ve never been offered this kind of discount before—anywhere—so it totally flummoxed me. It didn’t help that the store had a cutesy little name for it, so when the clerk asked me if I had forgotten about their “wisdom discount,” all I could manage was a confused look. Then it sank in: she was offering me the discount for people 60 and older!
I didn’t want to get depressed, but that’s what happened. I simply could not fathom that I could possibly look 60 to a 21- year-old. How was that possible? I’m way younger than that. After all, I’m only 57! Besides, I’ve always been the youngest one in my family, so how could I ever look 60? 60 is an age where you look grown up and mature. Help! I don’t feel that way yet!
Besides, I’ve lost all that weight! I thought I was looking young and beautiful and very far from 60! I managed to get over the whole incident by telling myself that one, ridiculous clerk is just so young that she doesn’t have a clue about anyone’s age. To her, a 40-year-old probably looks 60, I muttered under my breath.
Then it happened again—in a different store, with a different clerk—a very polite 40-year-old man, who asked me if I was “eligible for our senior discount?”.
Maybe with all the stress of this year, I’ve aged. Maybe getting thinner has actually made me look older. Who knows? Maybe the problem is that I am, in fact, pretty darn close to 60, so I might as well get used to the sound of that number.
Whatever! All I can say is, I’m not ready for it yet. I’ll adjust, eventually, when 60 rolls around. I’ll be a very happy 60-year-old. But until then, I’ve got 3 more years, so I plan to celebrate the fact that I am still in my fifties. And to hell with any young whippersnapper who thinks differently! They can take their wisdom discount and….
I’m far too mature to complete that sentence, but you get my drift!