Spiteful Discount

Once I hit the age of 55 my sister and my mom began quizzing me every time we sat down after going through the service line at any fast food establishment whether or not I had gotten my "senior's discount". Yeah, like I was going to admit I was old enough for that. Anyway at age 55 I didn't look old enough to qualify and to me that was worth paying the regular price for my soft drink. Mom would then inform me how much cheeper her meal was than mine. Fine with me. This woman is, after all, 28 years older than I am.

Without fail, I had this conversation every time we ate some place. I figured that once the employee at the service counter could figure out I was old enough to qualify... then by cracky, I'd start fessin' up that I deserved the cheeper rate. So for years I paid full price and grinned while paying it. I had gotten bye them again. I was still fooling them about my age.

Then last Sunday my mom and I stopped after church for lunch. I thought my meal was a little less than I had calculated in my head it should be. When I got to my seat I pulled out my receipt. Oh, Crikey! They've found me out. That young whippersnapper had given me a senior's discount without my asking him. I sat stewing at the receipt as my mom pulled out her chair and sat down. "Did you get your discount?" she ceremoniously asked. "As a matter of fact, I did" I snarled back ungraciously.

When I got home I made a trip to the bathroom mirror to examine my features more closely. Who exactly had I thought I'd been fooling, anyway. I stared at my gray hair and the skin now a little looser under my chin. It's caught up with me and that's all there is to that. I sat down at my desk, wrote out a check and mailed in my membership to AARP. Let's face it, I have arrived. Whether I act like it or not, I am now officially a senior citizen.