[Original image unavailable]Another New Years Eve, another birthday passed.
I’d like to say I’ve stopped counting and that “age is just a number” but I have to confess that I still look at the number.
The new number is 52 and, the thing is, I don’t feel the number. And I didn’t think I looked the number – until the other day.
I’ve always loved the “how old do you think I am?” game. I loved it because I always won. I loved it because the game was always the same. Someone would ask me how old I am and I would answer:
how old do you think I am?
The answer would always be at least four years younger than my real number; often more than four years younger. I would laugh and say:
sure, let’s go with that.
Good times . . . until yesterday. I seems I spun that roulette wheel one too many times and my winning streak came to an screeching halt.
An acquaintance (friend of a friend) asked the question and I answered with my flippant:
how old do you think I am?
Well. Let me tell you that this putz didn’t know how to play the game! He looked me up and down and said;
Oh, I don’t know, 55? Or 60?
Wait. What? I was speechless, I didn’t know what to say. I felt like I’d gotten hit in the chest with a baseball bat. I’ve never lost this game. Nobody had ever guessed older.
Somebody get this dude the rule book! Yes, to make it worse, it was a man that made this obscene guess.
Not a boy-man either. I could almost laugh it off if the guess came from a teenager who thinks that anyone wearing their pants around their actual waist is a senior citizen and geriatrics is the study and care of guys named Gerry.
Oh no, it was a man-man. A man my age. Someone who should know how to play this game. First of all, he was old enough to know not to ask a woman her age. Second of all, he should have had enough class to know that if a woman doesn’t tell you – it’s because she doesn’t want to.
Third and final of all – if you are asked to guess . . . guess low!
Wow. Have I hit the point where I need people to lie about how old they think I am?
I don’t think I want to play this game anymore. I’m taking my bat, ball and bifocals and going home.
Don’t go! There is so much more to read! Click to go home and don’t forget to subscribe now for FREE to receive notification when there is new stuff to read.
Image courtesy of patrisyu at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
