Jumping an Age Group – or two or three

“Hot” is the new word in our house. Justin Beiber is “hot”. The girls in Glee are “hot”. I am not “hot”, but I’m told I’m beautiful. That’s good enough for me.

Let’s remember that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and the owner of these eyes is only 6 years old. But I think that, for 48 years old, I look pretty good. I consider myself to be fit and healthy and, since I don’t wear make-up (which still has me wondering why one of the grade 6 boys in my class gave me a compact make-up mirror for Christmas!) and I’m “outgrowing” my highlights, many say that I’m pretty natural.

This leaves me in shock after a visit to The Bay this afternoon. Dave, the boys and I went to our local Bay store so that we could pick up some warmer blankets for their beds. At the sales desk, the clerk looked at me and asked, “Are you over 65 so that I can give you the Seniors’ discount?”

“Uh, no (and, then, I realized I spoke too soon), but can I have it anyway since you think I’m a senior?” I asked.
“Oh, I’d have to ask you for identification. I wouldn’t ask him (looking at my husband who is 4 years my senior!) but I’d have to ask you.”
“Well, is there a discount for the Highly Offended? I’m feeling rather insulted.”

That was it: no look of embarrassment, no apology, nothing. I thought about talking to a store manager because I could feel the gray hairs that were suddenly starting to sprout.

Instead, I said nothing. On the way home, though, I was to tempted to stop at the liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine – just to see if they would ask me for my i.d.

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2 comments

  1. …I would have stopped for the wine. đŸ™‚
    I am terrible at guess-timating peoples ages but would never assume someone is a senior…Maybe holiday stress/fatigue was upon them.

    Like

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