On February 5, 2006, I wrote the following:
Today, at Pizza Hut, without even asking, we were given a senior citizen discount.
Now, even though, I subscribe to the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP), I’m a long ways from being sixty, which is the earliest that most places given senior discounts. I’m only 54… (and two days). I’m still a year away from being able to early retire… if I want to… and if we’re financially able to.
It didn’t bother me, but it sure seemed to bother my wife. Even though we both knew that it was because of my greying hair that the teen waitress thought we were seniors. If I look old for my age, my wife looks young for hers. Even though we knew the discount was probably for my perceived age, she was the one put out about it.
But did she correct the error? Nope. It was enough to cover the tax on the meal.
Besides, with the leading edge of the boomers just now reaching 60, by the time we reach 60, the senior discounts will probably be few and far between.
Gotta take it when we can.
It happened again one afternoon last week — Thursday, I think, about 2:00 (that’s 1400 for some of my readers) — when we stopped for a treat at Dairy Queen. It didn’t seem to bother Karen at all this time. She seemed a little bit amused.