Learning to love that sudden ‘senior discount’

It happened not long ago. I was in the checkout line of S&S with my friend Rowan, and the casual act of buying groceries suddenly became something else altogether.

We’ve been pals for more than 25 years. She is four years younger and still fits a size 2, but other than that we could be the same person. We’ve journeyed together through tragedies and triumph and I know my friend will always have my back. And then, it happened.

The twenty-something cashier looked up from under her Amy Winehouse eyeliner and asked, “Do either of you get our senior discount?”

Rowan gleefully pointed to me and said, “She does! She does!”

I gave Rowan a hard look, but she kept grinning.

“Alrighty, then!” the cashier said, and deducted 10 percent from the total. I asked if she wanted to see my ID, since I had only just turned 60? She said no need, and packed up our groceries. Harrumph!

On the way to the car, Rowan was skipping. “Whoot! Senior discount!” she sang.

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” I said. “I was going to say ‘No’ until you outed me! This is weird. I’d rather pay the 10 percent.”

“It’s a boatload of groceries,” said Rowan. “If you don’t care about 25 bucks, then buy me sushi. It’s time to get what you deserve. You’ve earned it. Quit waiting … and open the damn car door — it’s hot!” she finished.

We drove back to my little farm with its almond trees and rushing creek. All along the way my mind thrashed. I had so much to be happy about. Why did she think I was waiting for something? I had worked hard and didn’t lean on anyone. That wasn’t waiting, was it?

We grilled surf and turf at home with my partner, and Labradors and collies and cats twining around us. Later, chilling on the patio, Rowan and I reminisced while sipping wine.

“Have you ever wondered what your life would have been like if you never met Jack?” she asked.

“Heck, yeah. Have you ever thought about what might have happened if you never met David?” I responded.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have my son — which I wouldn’t change for the world. But what kind of man leaves his wife and newborn in the lurch? Wish I never married him.”

We chatted into the night, but it took me ages to fall asleep because Rowan’s parking lot advice rankled, triggering thoughts about part of myself I left behind long ago.

How on earth had I ended up in corporate technology when my entire youth and college years were spent spinning pictures and stories? When and why had I detoured from what I love to do to what I had to do? What happens to a dream deferred? What indeed would have happened if I never met Jack, a scoundrel who took advantage of my youthful naivete?

I still have time to figure it all out. But in this sixth decade I’m now struggling to get used to things like my doctor asking, “Have you had any recent falls?” when I look and act just the same as the last visit. And there’s this sudden influx of mail about reverse mortgages and AARP.

It’s weird to hear people my age referred to as old. Yet, I do have more smile lines on my face, and I’m wiser and make better choices. Remember the saying about good judgment coming from experience, and experience coming from bad judgment?

Yes, folks, I think it’s about time to say, “Hell, yeah! You bet I get that senior discount!”