A Short Story on Age

It’s no secret that i look like i’m way younger than i am and that one day i’ll value that.  Today, not so much.  I am not in high school, nor college anymore.  Just because i live in a small college town does not mean i go to school.  I am a grown, professional adult, work two jobs and own two businesses to prove it.  Oh, and my license can prove it too.  So can my passport. 

This past Saturday, my dad wanted my brother and i to give him numbers for the lottery (he’s an avid lotto player and will get numbers from anywhere).  While on our spontaneous ice cream trip, we remembered to stop at the store and get tickets.  My dad sent my brother and i inside the store to complete the mission.  One problem:  we didn’t bring our IDs.  We tried anyway.  After my brother’s failed attempt at purchasing one $1.00 ticket (like it’s going to hurt anyone for one losing ticket), i proceeded to the counter.  Just as i laid my beautifully penciled-in choices on the counter, the sales lady, as if i weren’t standing right in front of her, whispers to her co-worker (who definately was younger than me) “Do you think she’s 18?”  Seriously?  18?  That’s just a little low for me, i think anyway.  I replied with my proper age almost immediately and she just looked at her co-worker, as if awaiting his permission to actually sell me a ticket.  He didn’t respond and she asked again.  “What do you think?”  At that point, i recited my birthdate and age.  Her co-worker finally brought light to the situation and responded.  “No one can come up with a date that quickly.  I think she’s right.”  Thank you.  I’m glad i’m right about my own age.

I purchased the ticket and of course, didn’t win a dime.  It’s always nice to hope though.  My grandfather actually did win after playing the same numbers for years, and my grandmother is still living in the house he bought with the winnings.  I just simply cannot believe it’s that complicated to purchase a dollar or two worth of lottery tickets.  And it’s not the first time i’ve been carded for one either.  It’s not the first time i’ve been seen as younger than i actually am.  It’s not the 100th time i’ve been seen as younger than i actually am.  When you get on an elevator the day after graduating college and are asked if you came from the high school to help out is enough to re-think graduating college.  One day i’m sure it will be appreciated, but today it’s frustrating.  I like being young, but not that young. 

Come on Sweet World – 18?!



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7 responses to “A Short Story on Age

  1. Oh, be flattered. Because one day, people will stop asking, and you will be insulted. LOL.

  2. i’m right there with you! all my life people have thought i am younger then i really am. and because i work (sometimes) on a college campus, that happens ALL the time. i’m learning to appreciate it more because i know that when people start thinking i’m older then i am, that i’ll be sad. now, if only my body still felt as young as it apparently looks…i might be happy…

  3. thanks for stopping by yesterday! I appreciate all the kind comments.

  4. One time me and my bestest buddie went to IHOP and they gave her crayons…she was like 16! Hahahaha, guess it’s not bad when you get older though 🙂

  5. I think they stopped thinking I was young enough to bother carding about the time I turned 40. That’s when the gray really started coming in and I quit coloring my hair.

  6. I’m visiting from SITS today… I love your blog.

    I know exactly how you feel about looking younger than you are. You should have seen the looks I got when I was pregnant, although I was 27. People must have thought I was pregnant and in Junior High… ughhh

    we’ll appreciate it one day!

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