I do not look my age. I honestly never have. I say this
because the other day I was reading a post about people telling their most
memorable experience of not looking their age. I found myself wondering, which
was my most memorable experience, I have so many.
The most recent incident happened at work a little over a
month ago. I forget what started the conversation, but I mentioned I would be
turning 62 in July this year and one co-worker stared at me stunned. “You’re
older than me?”
“Apparently.”
I am around three years older than her; she thought
she was older than me. Nope.
And I had similar problems way back in school. Like back in
my junior year of high school. We had just moved from a small town in Idaho to Tacoma
Washington, and it was my first day at this big new school. I was also having
trouble finding one of my classes and the tardy bell had already rung.
Desperate, I cornered the only other person in the area, saying, “Could you
help me, I think I’m lost.”
He looked me over from head to toe (it was January, and we
were outside, so I did have a heavy coat on), and he said, “Yeah, the junior
high is down there,” pointing down the hill.
I glared at him and said, “I’m a Junior, and I’m looking
for,” I showed him my schedule, “this class.”
He was stunned, but he did show me where my class was. Maybe
if he’d seen the size of my chest he wouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion,
but then maybe not
A little over a year later, Konnie and I were attending a
conference for the youth, and at one point we had sack lunches in a park. Konnie
and I were sitting and visiting with the younger sister of a girl in our class because none of the girls her age wanted anything to do with her.
The poor girl was 6’2” and around 14 or 15.
Someone else saw the three of us together and made a comment
about our friend babysitting who she thought was the youngest kids in the entire
group. Nope, we were the oldest.
Though the most memorable instance was when I was
twenty-four. I had a roommate who had just turned twenty-one and she came home
from work with the news that her coworkers had learned she was now twenty-one
and invited her to join them at a local bar after work.
Problem one is the young lady was a small-town LDS girl. I was
the only one she knew well who had ever been inside a bar.
She had in fact been very intrigued when she learned I’m a
convert and had been raised by a barmaid. Now she wanted me to go with her to
the bar because she really wanted to see what it was like.
I’ve told this story before, we had a fight about it, but she
won. I’d first tried to talk her out of going altogether then tried to just
give her some advice on what would be a safe beverage to order. She prevailed and
I went with her.
When we arrived at the bar, she quickly spotted her coworkers,
and we crossed the room to their table with a barmaid close behind us.
The barmaid took my roommate's order, and then I asked her for
orange juice, she told me she’d have to see my ID first. I fought it simply
because I knew I wouldn’t be ordering any alcohol, but she insisted; I showed
her my ID and she went to get our drinks.
My roommate started giggling. I asked her to be quiet and tried
to tell her it wasn’t funny, but she countered it was too.
Her coworkers asked her what was so funny, and my roommate pointed to me saying, “She’s twenty-four.”
Making me the only one at the table not laughing hysterically when the barmaid returned with our drinks and asked what was so funny. I told her, “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Having been raised by a barmaid, I was aware she could lose her job over not carding someone she should have.
The fellow on the other side of her said, “You only carded
the oldest one here.”
Dang. I didn’t know that. I looked at her and said, “I told you;
you didn’t want to know.”
Her face had gone sheet white, and everyone else at that
table quickly wiped out their IDs.
FYI, my roommate was the youngest one there, and not counting
me, the oldest guy was about a month shy of twenty-four.
Anyway, happy writing everyone!
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