Today was a good day in the life of this blogger who is approaching middle age.
Today I went to the liquor store for the first time in many blue moons to buy some beer (we are having a beach bbq tomorrow evening and what is a beach bbq without beer?). I picked out my six pack and walked over to the cashier.
Cashier: hello, may I see some identification, please?
Me: Say what?
Cashier: will you please provide me with your proof of age?
Me: Are you kidding me?
Cashier: Not at all.
Me: No, really, are you kidding me?
Cashier (now annoyed): No.
I fumbled around in my wallet looking for my ID; I found it and presented it to the cashier.
Cashier: Oh. I now see why you thought I was kidding.
I took my beer and walked home. Just before reaching my home I ran into a new neighbour. He's new enough that I don't know much about him and vice versa, but we've exchanged idle chit-chat many times. So we stopped to chat. It turns out that he teaches at a local community college and so I told him that I also teach. The conversation turned to this:
New neighbour: so how old are your students?
Me: About 24 -26.
New neighbour: Wow.
Me: Wow?
New neighbour: Yeah, that must be weird. What is it like to teach students who are the same age as you?
Me: Uhm, I'm 38 years old.
New neighbour: No shit! I never would have guessed!
Perhaps Oil of Olay needs to contact me? The secret of growing old while looking young? I've got it, baby.
(The truth is that I really don't understand why people perceive me as being so young; I look in the mirror and see new wrinkles and new grey hair daily, but I will revel in the misconceptions of the general population as long as I can.)
Today I went to the liquor store for the first time in many blue moons to buy some beer (we are having a beach bbq tomorrow evening and what is a beach bbq without beer?). I picked out my six pack and walked over to the cashier.
Cashier: hello, may I see some identification, please?
Me: Say what?
Cashier: will you please provide me with your proof of age?
Me: Are you kidding me?
Cashier: Not at all.
Me: No, really, are you kidding me?
Cashier (now annoyed): No.
I fumbled around in my wallet looking for my ID; I found it and presented it to the cashier.
Cashier: Oh. I now see why you thought I was kidding.
I took my beer and walked home. Just before reaching my home I ran into a new neighbour. He's new enough that I don't know much about him and vice versa, but we've exchanged idle chit-chat many times. So we stopped to chat. It turns out that he teaches at a local community college and so I told him that I also teach. The conversation turned to this:
New neighbour: so how old are your students?
Me: About 24 -26.
New neighbour: Wow.
Me: Wow?
New neighbour: Yeah, that must be weird. What is it like to teach students who are the same age as you?
Me: Uhm, I'm 38 years old.
New neighbour: No shit! I never would have guessed!
Perhaps Oil of Olay needs to contact me? The secret of growing old while looking young? I've got it, baby.
(The truth is that I really don't understand why people perceive me as being so young; I look in the mirror and see new wrinkles and new grey hair daily, but I will revel in the misconceptions of the general population as long as I can.)
1 comment:
Wow, that is a compliment...Good for you. I woudln't know what to think if someone asked me for my ID but I know it would make my day!...:)
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