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Homicide, Suicide or 25

             In some stores, restaurants, discount bargain establishments, and at the local poodle parlor I am considered a Senior Citizen and get a discount from these fine people. In other places I couldn’t get a discount if I had only one arm, my skin were green, and I ate with my nose. A great BIG thank you to these last places for acknowledging my forever young face.

            Last night I made a stop at the local Mega Beauty Supply store to pick up a couple items. Normal items. Items any one any age would buy. Nothing that would give away my true age. I have a discount card for this Mega Beauty Supply store, but I buy the card. Once a year. For $5. The only other place I pay for a card to get discounts is Barnes and Noble. I know I’ll get my money out of that one.

            After gathering my stuff and heading to the register I noticed that it was time to renew the card. In reality, I could have used the card through the end of the month but why not renew it now.

After scanning my items, the little blonde chickeydoo at the register asked me if I wanted to renew my discount card. I asked her how much the card cost.

            “ $5”, she said smiling. Before I could answer she looked me dead in the eyes and said, “are you 65 or older. You can get it free if you are 65 or older.” I couldn’t reply. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even calculate how old I really am.

            In my mind I am thinking, “Honey, I’m not 65 or older in reality. I certainly am not going to be 65 just to get a free discount card so I can save 5% or 10% and get insulted at the register.”

            That’s what I thought. The words didn’t come out though. Nothing came out. Stunned silent and that doesn’t happen too often.

            To the rescue comes the other chickeydoo clerk saying, “or military. You can also get it free if you are military.”

            At that point in time I saw three choices. I could pull out my military ID, as I do legally carry one of them. I could run home and commit suicide. Not me, I don’t run from problems – I eliminate them.  Or I could take the third option and use my 25 caliber pistol and take her out.

            “Military? You want to see my military ID?”

            Little blonde chickeydoo said “Yes. That would be nice.”

            I showed it to her. I got my new discount card for free. I got my items at the discounted price. I saved $4.02. I saved myself from jail. And I saved the little blonde chickeydoo from becoming the little blonde dead chickeydoo.

                       

From the life and mind of:

Wanda M. Argersinger

© 2009 All Rights Reserved

www.wandaargersinger.com

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3 comments

  1. Ah, yes, one of the few percs of aging, whether we do it gracefully or not. What I do in similar situations is I give them my ID to prove that I am in fact over 65, but then I clarify it by stating, “I’m really only 30-something, but my knees believe my drivers license.”
    Good one. Glad you’re not behind bars this morning. Er, in jail, I mean, not lying in an alley someplace with a hangover.
    Janet Elaine Smith, multi-genre author

  2. Wanda-ful! Being terrible at maths and being born in ’59 do not go well together. So I age in sets of 5 (last year it was easy, as it is every ten years, to remember how old I really am). So; I have been 50 for the last 5 years. As from this year, I will be 55 for the next 5. Ought I to be insulted when, at the beginning of the batch, no one says “I don’t look it”?

  3. Wanda, you and Janet have inspired me. I bought the two websites two years ago and have made valiant attempts to make them be websites. But something is not ‘clicking’. I cannot believe I am so dense at this. I am in Who’s Who, 1979, for my accomplishments, but I cannot get it right about understanding this whole publishing, website, blog thing. It mystifies me. But the darling story above and Janet’s linked story on her blog have given me inspiration to try, try again. Thanks, Guys!

    Willow

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