I can recall two times in my life when I officially "freaked out" about getting older. The first was on my sister's 30th birthday exactly two years ago today (happy birthday Pauls, by the way). People always panic about hitting the big three-oh, but trust me, if there's anything worse than when you turn 30, it's when your little sister does.
The second time I freaked out about getting older was about a month ago at the send-off party some co-workers had for me when I left my job. One of our reporters, a doe-eyed twenty-something, fresh out of j-school, recounted how he had met me when I first got to the station. We were all laughing and joking and talking about how no one knew who I was when I arrived, and this young kid says to me, "yeah, I remember seeing you walking the halls and wondering, hey, when did that lady get here?"
And that's when the conversation came to a screeching halt.
What did he just call me? He didn't...no...he didn't just call me LADY, did he??? I've been called ma'am by the guy at the grocery checkout before, but I assume that's just because he's trying to be polite to a stranger. But lady? Lady is the old lady who lives down the street. Or in a shoe. I was stunned. It was as if he had just called me a gray-haired, wrinkle-faced hag in front of a room full of people. It left me speechless. Friends at the table kept asking if I was alright. Why are your eyes all red? Is it your allergies? What's wrong? Nothing, I assured them. Nothing. Just getting older. And knowing it.
9 comments:
Lady. Ouch. If it makes you feel better....
About two years ago (at the ripe old age of 33) I came walking into the newsroom one day in a new shirt and my editorial assistant, who was all of about 23, loudly exclaimed, "Robyn! Is that an Ambercrombie & Fitch shirt?! Whoa! Look at you, trying to be all young and stylish." You could have heard a pin drop from my reporters sitting around us. I was so insulted. "TRYING to be all young and stylish"???? I mean, it's not like I had previously been showing up to work in Garanimals-type pant-and-shirt combos worn by senior citizens. Yeesh. That was a tough day.
Take heart: You're still a young hottie. (Now you say the same thing back to me.... ) ;)
Let me first start out by saying that as a former grocery store clerk, the use of ma'am when addressing a customer was strictly out of politeness and in no way a reflection of the person's age.
Tricia and I really started feeling old a few years ago when we attended a DMB show at SPAC. While walking aroung during intermission, Frank Sinatra was playing over the loud speakers. Ahead of us 2 young whippersnappers said quite loudly, "What is this crappy music?" Come on - Sinatra's a classic. Needless to say we have never attended another DMB show!
Reminds me of the time not so long ago when a bartender asked to see my ID. Then he laughed and said "Just kidding!"
Ass.
I had to attend a "new staff orientation" at work Tuesday night. Everyone (new) that works in the building has to attend - so there are usually 5 employees each month. I was there with a couple front desk workers and two young (like late teens - early 20s) women who work in childcare. When we got to the part about our retirement fund (that anyone can contribute to), I couldn't help but say to the two young girls - "You guys should contribute! You have the magic of compound interest on your side."
They looked at me like I had 6 heads, and actually laughed. I went home and asked EL when I became the crazy lady at work that talks about retirement.
Do I need to go downstairs and kick somebody's ass? I'd do that, you know.
maybe he meant "lady" as in STYX......when I'm with you I'm smiling.
-t
Oh - and if you want to feel REALLY old, just remember that our 20 year high school reunion is in 3 short years. Yes, 20 year reunion. 20 freaking years. Where did they go???
"You guys aren't old...you're just...mature." --Heard at the Bayou in main street Manayunk, directed at me and my 30 something friend, Meg. Haven't been back to the Bayou since!
A test comment from Hill!!
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