Am I a Senior?
I took my car to Big Jim’s the other day for a wash and wax. Big Jim’s has been a fixture on Route 224 for years and years, and the people who Big Jim’s employs have worked there just as long. I got my formica card showing the type of wash I was getting; watched the carpet guys clean the mats and vacuum the floor, then went to pay my 12 bucks. I handed my car wash card to the cashier, and she asked, “Are you a senior?” I was taken aback. Something was askew. I’m not a senior. I don’t look like a senior. I don’t think like a senior…well…maybe. I feel like a senior!!!! But as Fernando said on Saturday Night Live years ago, it’s not how you feel,it’s how you look, and I look maahhhvelous!!! Maybe not marvelous!! Those bags under my raccoon eyes are a little disturbing. I asked her to define senior. “Are you 60?” she asked. No, I am 59…six months to go. “That’s okay, honey, I will give it to you anyway.” She replied. A reprieve!!!!! Such a deal!!! Not sixty, but I still get the discount!!!