Okay, so then off to the grocer, where the lines were quite long. I stood patiently, shifting from foot to foot waiting for the next checker to come up. He did and lo and behold, he walked up to the young lady behind me in her “I can’t lean over and pick anything up,” mini skirt and took his good old (because he was old, old enough to be her father) time ringing her two items up. When he was done, he shut off the light and took said items to her car. I was still standing in line with my basket of “I’m getting old purchases” when he returned. He didn’t open another register. He was done for the day.
I’m not asking these elder men to wave giddiness when they’re in the presence of a younger, prettier, and lest we forget, perkier woman. Go for it dude. Just don’t leave tire tracks on my back, trying to get to them. Didn’t your mama ever tell you to “respect your elders?” I don’t expect these men to flirt with me, offer to carry out my package of Twinkies, or display Cleopatra type attention onto me. Just acknowledge me, especially, when you’re taking my money and don’t call me “dear”. I’m not your dear, cupcake, honey, or sweetie pie. I’m the woman who’s going to kick your touché because my fifty is the new forty and your fifty is just old.
