A lady at lunch was obviously playing her pity me card. She told us the story of her trip to the grocery store. While checking out, she was asked if her purchases would be eligible for a senior discount by a butch looking cashier. This lady is turning 50 very soon, but was trying to feel good about it. She replied yes to the cashier. An elderly gentleman behind her whom she described as looking a hundred chimed, I don't get a discount. How old do you have to be? The cashier replied Sixty. That made lady at lunch very upset and she cried home, but tried to console herself that her cashier was hitting on her and trying to give her a discount to be nice.
I really don't care for this lady, but I felt for her. What was worse was that ever since she cut her hair shorter, she had aged 10 years. I didn't kiss her ass like my temp did, but I said that the cashier was rude and shouldn't have said a thing. Tawny said the same thing. If she'd get a darker/more vibrant hair color, put mascara on, a bit of blush and a swipe of lip gloss, she wouldn't look so much older. Every little thing helps if you are not blessed with wonderful genes.
I will be turning 37 in two months, but I am blessed with not looking my age (so far). When I was younger, how I wished I was older in actual years because when I was 14, I looked 18. Some people love their age and some people strive to fight it with plastic surgery or some snake oil cream. While I do worry a little, I am more anxious of the things I haven't accomplished. My mind and soul are demanding satisfaction...
Kathy picked me up at home for a Vietnamese dinner where she has more vegetarian choices and where she now enjoys avocado shakes like me. On the way, my aunt's son, Dave Jr. called me to invite me to Thanksgiving dinner. I politely declined and told him I already had plans. That must be my 5th or 6th invite for Turkey Day. My aunt will be going over there, too. It saves me from calling her. Yes, I am a chicken, but my feathers are still fine. Ha!
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