I still remember the day I grew old. After forgetting my change at a self checkout machine, an younger attendant ran after me and refered to me as ‘sir’. After that day, I was no longer young. I was 29.
I remember the day as well. I walked all through the store grabbing everything I needed and while waiting in the checkout I realized I forgot the milk. I laughed and said “Oh wow” then the guy behind me looked at me and I shrugged and said “I forgot the milk!” and left the line I’d been standing in for a few minutes to get the milk.
My age at the time didn’t matter because it was on that day, I became old. Talking to strangers in the grocery store, forgetting to get the milk, and laughing about it? Old.
I realised I had become an adult when some woman told her kid “that mister” would tell him off if he didn’t behave, and gestured in my direction. I looked behind me. There was nobody there.
I had become The Mister. The stranger based punishment of exasperated mothers everywhere. Fear me, little children, and despair.
Damn, I turned old when I grabbed some coloring pages off the ground to give them back to a child and got called the “nice fat lady” afterwards by the child. Double whammy
I still remember the day I grew old. After forgetting my change at a self checkout machine, an younger attendant ran after me and refered to me as ‘sir’. After that day, I was no longer young. I was 29.
I’m sorry that happened to you sir
I remember the day as well. I walked all through the store grabbing everything I needed and while waiting in the checkout I realized I forgot the milk. I laughed and said “Oh wow” then the guy behind me looked at me and I shrugged and said “I forgot the milk!” and left the line I’d been standing in for a few minutes to get the milk.
My age at the time didn’t matter because it was on that day, I became old. Talking to strangers in the grocery store, forgetting to get the milk, and laughing about it? Old.
I realised I had become an adult when some woman told her kid “that mister” would tell him off if he didn’t behave, and gestured in my direction. I looked behind me. There was nobody there.
I had become The Mister. The stranger based punishment of exasperated mothers everywhere. Fear me, little children, and despair.
Mister, this is a Wendys.
Damn, I turned old when I grabbed some coloring pages off the ground to give them back to a child and got called the “nice fat lady” afterwards by the child. Double whammy