by Kirby Carespodi of Kirb-Appeal
As much as I joke around about it, I really don’t think about being old.
Really.
I mean, I don’t feel a whole lot different on the inside; I’m still having fun and joking around and being highly inappropriate at the worst possible moments.
The outside? I guess that’s a slightly different story.
I’ll be honest with you–yeah, I look a little older. I’m a little heavier and I have a few errant eyebrow hairs and one at chin-level that is trying to drive me insane. But my skin is great and my hair hasn’t turned gray (yet) and I like to think that I can still totally rock my Frye boots.
I never considered how I look to the outside world until this week.
“Senior Coffee” week.
There are days when I just don’t feel like eating at 6 am. Luckily, there are multiple places where I can buy something to eat before I get to school (which is just two miles up the road from my house). There’s a Biscuitville, a Starbucks, a McDonald’s and a Dunkin’ Donuts–all of which have been recipients of my hard-earned dollars at one time or another.
This week, it was McDonald’s that sent me its siren song:“Kirrrrbyyyy…you know you want meeeeee….you need some pro-teeeeeein…….” because McDonald’s is TOTALLY sneaky that way. And for me, protein is essential. It keeps me from beating 8th graders. (That is a lie. I have not, nor will I ever, beat an 8th grader unless his/her parent requests it. And even then, it’s more like a light tap upside the head.)
So of course I pulled over into the drive-thru. And I ordered my usual–a sausage breakfast burrito. It is from the dollar menu, so it costs a dollar. With tax? It’s $1.07.
So I ordered, then pulled up, then fumbled around in the ashtray for $1.07 in change. The car ahead of me pulled ahead, and I pulled up to the window. I notice immediately it’s not my ‘regular’ gal–‘regular’ as in the one who is at that window most mornings–she is a former student–not ‘regular’ as in her particular hygeine habits–but a young lady whom I do not recognize.
My $1.07 at the ready, she said “That’ll be forty-nine cents.” I looked at her for a moment, then said, “I think it’s a dollar seven.” She looked me square in the face and said “You ordered the senior coffee, right?”
What do you say to someone who thinks you are a lot older than you really are? Do you correct them? Do you sob uncontrollably? Do you make a joke and see if they ‘get’ it? Do you call them a stupid #@th#*f^c$#r?
I’ll tell you what I did. I banged my head on the steering wheel. The gal at the drive-thru window just blinked.
When she came to her senses, she got the manager on duty. The manager asked me what I had ordered. I told her, paid the $1.07 I had fished out of the ashtray, and collected my sausage breakfast burrito. And drove to school feeling…well…old.
Photo credit: open.salon.com
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