You had to be there to get this, I am certain. But I am nevertheless compelled to attempt to explain this situation.
I had dashed into my local healthy grocery store. Feeling good, I grabbed the kale and broccoli, etc., and made my way to the check out. My slightly less than favorite checkout woman, of dour disposition, was free at the one register. I put my veggies down, happy and joyous and feeling free
I realized it was Monday, senior discount day, something for which I am a proudly grateful participant. However, as I started to ask for it, and the strangest thing happened—I couldn’t remember the words, senior discount. I got a little confused. Was I in the Kripalu Shop, where the key words for discount are, I’m an employee? I was pretty sure that I didn’t work in this grocery store, but I still couldn’t find the words. So I said to the young, already getting more dour by the moment woman:
I told her I was elderly!
Still unable to think of the words, I started laughing. She, really dour now, and getting pissed, said, quite coldly, “Do you want a senior discount?”
Yes, yes, senior discount. That’s it. That’s what I want.
However by this time I was completely unable to contain. Some kind of childlike irrational hysteria swept over me, as I attempted to pack my box. I was doubled over, laughing, hardly able to manage the credit card experience. By this time the register person was done with me. And I mean, really done with me, wouldn’t look at me. I somehow managed to stumble my way out of the store with my box of nutritionally correct food, made it the car and roared, laughed, cried, wailed, all the way home.
This is why we elderly people need SENIOR DISCOUNTS. We need help. Please support us and be kind when you see us in public places.
I have absolutely no idea what this reflects about my attitude toward aging or to myself. But oh, it was so good have that total laugh experience.
Oh, and p.s.–this site is almost ready for revision–coming soon. Thanks for abiding by the snow picture for so ridiculously long.