Last week, I made a
routine visit to the ABC store. It may come as a shock, (as it did to my mother) but I don’t frequent that establishment. The people there don’t know me as a “regular.”
I perused the aisles, grabbed my booze, and went to check out. As the woman was ringing me up, I instinctively grabbed my ID.
She didn’t card me. I thought it was like, a law, to card anyone who looks under 50 years of age. I was slightly perturbed by this, but I didn’t let ruin my day. I mean, it was a FLUKE.
But maybe not.
Because the next fucking day, I was shopping when an older woman (who actually wouldn’t need to be carded) came up and tapped me on the shoulder.
Excuse me, I don’t mean to stalk you…
I immediately thought she was a blog reader. One time, and my head blew up.
…but I’m shopping for my daughter. Her birthday is coming up and I want to buy her a new outfit. You look about her age, so I want to ask you opinion.
Of course she could ask my opinion! We briefly laughed about how moms can sometimes miss the mark when it comes to buying clothes.
I happened to ask, How old will your daughter be?
Oh, she’s turning 38.
My world immediately imploded. I felt myself getting hot. First, I didn’t get carded. Now, this woman thinks I’m approaching middle age. What’s next?! Someone offering me a discount on a Hoverround?!
I’m not one to ever complain about getting older. (As I say, it’s much better than the alternative, am I right?!) But this is just fucking ridiculous. Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ll be 26. Please, everyone, come tell me how young I look.