The other day I saw two of my co-workers talking in the hallway and as I passed them, overheard one of them say, “ask Jen, she’s old“. Naturally, I couldn’t wait to see what was coming next. A few moments later, the other one of them appeared before me and meekly asked for a cough drop.
What. The. Yuletide. Fuck.
Seriously. JUST BECAUSE I carry some cough drops in my purse, THAT makes me old?!? Really? How about I’m just prepared? It’s not like I have a semi-visible tissue peeking out from the pendulous sleeve of my muumuu, you little shit.
Well, of course I had a cough drop and I subsequently threw it at him. There you go, sweetie – I sure hope you don’t choke on it. After all, he wasn’t the one that referred to me as old.
In that same vein, I had yet another co-worker remark about my being older than her, in front of a customer. I winked at her and good-naturedly warned her that she’d be my age one day to which she giggled and slyly replied, “yes, but by then, you’ll be dead.”
Whatever happened to respecting your elders? These kids clearly didn’t get the memo. Then again, I suppose the memo is now a digital email and everyone is playing on their #$&*@% phones and missed the whole damn thing. YOU KIDS GET OFF MY LAWN. . . NOW.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some orthopedic insoles to put inside my Chuck’s.