[img]958|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img]Dateline Boston — Sometimes I forget how old I am. Every once in awhile, I am reminded. I shall mark with an asterisk times that I feel “older.”
The other day I was at The Body Shop, picking up some new facial moisturizer. I asked the woman at the counter if she had any moisturizer with SPF.* She showed me some that did. I asked her why they even made it without, because wasn’t everyone supposed to use SPF?* She said that some people didn’t care. I gave her a disapproving look.*
I told her that I had very sensitive skin, and I have to be very careful about what I put on my face. She asked if I was wearing makeup. I said no. She gushed, “Wow! You have the clearest skin I have ever seen!” I told her that really, it was just genes—everyone in my family looked young. She said, “May I ask?” When I told her I was 43, she said, “Wow, I hope when I get up to 43 I look as good as you.”* Nice backhanded compliment, young lady.
Recently, I was at the register of a store, and I dug into the change compartment of my wallet to find 90 cents.* When I realized I didn’t have enough change, I uttered a bad word under my breath. I said to the cashier, “Excuse my French.”* He asked, “What did you say?” I replied, “I said the F-word.” He laughed and asked if I was a teacher. I said, “Do I look like a teacher?” He said that I did.* Somehow, I think looking like a teacher makes me look old, or like a goody two shoes, or a know it all, or something. Even though I am a teacher, I don’t want to look like one. Next time I won’t pardon myself when sounding like the tough New Yorker that I am.
Last weekend I noticed that someone (perhaps a soon-to-be-stepson within the 12-14- year-old range) had put a glass of milk on the coffee table, and there was a fresh milk ring where the glass had been. I said dramatically, “Ooh…milk rings on the coffee table is not good. On this coffee table, which was handmade by your grandfather.”* As I wiped the table clean, I realized that I sounded like somebody’s grandmother.
Ah, well, let’s face it. I live in Boston, home of 52 colleges and universities. I would guess most people who live here are younger than I am. I keep up with the younger ones, though. I have an iPhone, and I play Words with Friends. I just can’t do it without my reading glasses.
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
