I arrived for class an hour early tonight to go over the figures on the final exam one last time with a couple of my classmates; and since class is conveniently located in a meeting room at a Denny’s restaurant, I decided to order a bite to eat while I waited for the others to show up. As I perused the menu trying to decide what to eat, I noticed all the dinner options started with the word “Senior” and I wondered what the heck a Senior Grilled Tilapia was and how it got to be all senior and everything.
Then I realized I was looking at the Senior Citizens’ menu with discounted prices and thought, “Oh, silly me, I’m looking at the wrong menu.” And just as I was about to flip it over to the other side where the prices are shown for young’uns such as myself, I noticed it said 55+; and I was like, “Hey, wait just a doggone minute here! I’m 57 years old and I ain’t no damn senior!”
Of course, at that point I lost my appetite because I was completely devastated by the news that I’m senior citizen.
How in the world did I manage to live almost three years as a senior citizen and not even know it?! Who gets to decide this stuff anyway? I need to have a word with whoever decided to turn me into a doggone senior citizen! Hmph! Last I heard I was a MILF.