William told me yesterday afternoon that he was supposed to wear “business casual” for a senior event that evening. He does not own anything that is not jeans or a t-shirt. I was somewhat sympathetic, because he seemed pretty anxious about it and I can identify with pre-event clothing anxiety, but on the other hand it seemed unlikely that he had only just been given that information that same day.
Still, I had to take Henry for his weekly allergy shot, and that route takes me right past a Goodwill, and frankly there are few things I find as thrilling as a sudden Clothing Emergency of this sort (I still think with fond thrill of when Elizabeth, age approximately 3, got carsick on the way to Target and I “had to” buy her replacement clothing), so I stopped to see if they had any polos or buttondowns. I found several shirts that looked nice and were also cheap, so I bought them. (One of the nice things about having so many kids is that even if he didn’t like any/all of the shirts, it’s likely SOMEONE will get use out of them.) One of the shirts was pink: he’d mentioned that “someone at school” had told him he looked good in pink, and I love when guys wear pink (while also looking forward to a day when guys wearing pink is no more remarkable than guys wearing blue or grey or white). And he did choose the pink one, and he did look nice in it.
Why was I telling you this rather dull story? Oh, I remember! It is because as I was checking out, the clerk asked if I qualified for the senior citizen discount. This is the first time this has happened to me, and it is not a milestone I savored.
I have heard of senior citizens who won’t ask for the discount because they don’t want to admit they’re that age, and I am not that kind of vain: I will be piping right up and asking for it. But that is so far in my future I have not even started WONDERING about it yet, so it is not pleasing to have someone volunteering the information that I look like I could qualify NOW. It was a little tempting to say yes and take the discount as compensation for my injured feelings.
Coincidentally, my friend Meredith ALSO got asked this question yesterday; she too is many, many years from even the lowest most-generous edge of qualifying. As she put it: “It isn’t like carding for alcohol where you ask almost regardless of age to be on the safe side. In fact MAYBE DO NOT EVER ASK.” SERIOUSLY. If I get carded when I am clearly over the age of 21, the worst thing that happens is that I feel foolishly flattered and later try to work the incident casually into conversation. Getting senior-citizen carded is NOT THAT SAME KIND OF THING.
While I have you here, I will finish the story about the shirts. William’s favorite of the shirts I bought was a pale aqua color, and I noticed only after he tried it on that it had giant bleach splatters up the back. This is one reason that even though Goodwill says they want ALL clothes donated (because they can make scrap/rag bags out of the ones that aren’t good), I generally throw away ruined clothes: my own repeated shopping experience suggests Goodwill must only scrap/rag the items that don’t sell, rather than sorting out the ruined stuff before putting it out on the racks. I know it’s my own responsibility to check each item of clothing carefully before I buy it, but for whatever reason I don’t always think to do it, and so I have sighed over quite a few broken zippers, missing novelty buttons, holes, and now bleach splatters. It’s no big deal: I can just consider it a small donation to Goodwill. But there are a lot of people it WOULD be a big deal to, and I don’t want them despairing over money wasted on my broken zippers and missing novelty buttons and bleach spots.
And so I was about to put the bleach-splashed shirt in the trash, but then William jokingly suggested we could Pinterest it up by adding additional artsy splatters (he was teasing me for this shirt), and I declined this idea but it reminded me of ANOTHER shirt I had long ago that got splattered with bleach, and I just bleached the rest of it and had a nice white shirt (which, yes, got holes in it pretty quickly, but I got maybe a half-dozen wearings out of it before that happened). There was nothing to lose, and so I bleached the aqua shirt, and all the aqua came out quickly and easily, and now it is a nice white shirt for the next time someone in this house needs Business Casual.
Bleaching out the shirt reminded me of a book series I loved as young girl, The All-of-A-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor. One of the girls gets a tea stain on a lovely white dress, and it won’t come out. Their mother salvages it by dunking the whole dress in tea so it’s now ecru. I loved those books.
I’m only receiving the senior discount on movie tickets at this time, but it is indeed a jolt when someone just decides you qualify. My pride was very wounded the first few times; I really would have rather paid full price just to not feel old. But it no longer feels like I need to care about it now that I’m closer to 60 than 50. The other thing that is happening more often is young people opening doors for me. I’ve decided not to fret about people noticing that I have a lot of gray hair. Instead I’m rejoicing that mothers are still quietly doing great work to send nice people into the world.
I loved that series! And I remember that Henny dyed the dress with tea in a tub at the party, and her mom figured it out and had her dye the living room curtains as well.
Oh my goodness! I remembered dyeing the dress but not the curtains.
I once had a sweater I decided was too blindingly white, and inspired by AOAKF, I tried dyeing it in tea. Only that made it a sort of peachy, Caucasian “flesh” tone, so I washed it all out and dyed it in coffee, which was better.
On other news, our Goodwill only wants undamaged clothing, and it will probably surprise no one, given the coffee-dyeing story, that clothes I am willing to wear or put on my children are not nice enough to donate to Goodwill.
We have a few charities which take mostly-undamaged clothing, but a couple of stores (H&M and… heck, I’ve forgotten the other big one) will take any clean fabric items you’ve got for fibre recycling. Holey single socks, torn jeans, bleach-splattered shirts, yellowed sheets, all of it. And they give you a discount coupon for each bag of stuff you bring them.
Apparently fabric is one of the most-easily recycled materials out there. No fabric goes in the trash in our house anymore.
How bizarre that I remembered the mother doing it.
I’m Jewish and from NYC, so I read those books A LOT.
:D
I have a childhood memory of my dad going to breakfast with his same-age friends and the cashier asking *only* my dad if he qualified for the senior citizen discount. He was teased for a long time about that, as you can imagine.
On Catherine Newman’s recommendation, I’ve been reading Mending Matters: Stitch, Patch, and Repair Your Favorite Denim and More. I love thinking about creative ways to get more life out of clothing.
I’m 38. At 36, I stopped coloring my hair. The back of my hair is still dark, but from ears forward (like a headband) I’m about 75% gray.
More than once, people have asked if my girls (9,6 and almost 5) are my grandchildren. As you said, “It is not a milestone I savored.” This happens more frequently when I am out with them and my white-hair-since-age-29 husband.
My point is – people are dumb. Don’t be offended. I’d never peg you as senior discount material. :)
At one of my son’s soccer games a few years ago, a kid on the other team asked me if I was my son’s grandma. They were 4-5 year olds, so it was more “kids say the darnedest thing” funny than insulting. Also, my son is the youngest, born when I was 32. This kid’s mother looked like she had him in her early 20s. I’m sure I do look a lot older than what he thinks a “mom” looks like.
I had the same thing happen at my son’s Kindergarten field trip a few years ago. I was only 35 and one of his friends said to me: “I know who you are. You’re George’s Grandma!” Ha, no!
Where I live, if you buy alcohol at the grocery store, they card if you look “under 30” (liquor stores are separate and card everyone). This strikes me as a rather touchy age to choose as the dividing line… I don’t care (I’m 34) but I do notice I get carded mostly when I shop alone, and not with one or both of my young children. I don’t know if this is because they assume (wrongly) that I must be “old enough” to have the kids, or they assume (correctly) that I have my hands full with them and don’t want to fumble with my ID, and that I could use a drink.
On the topic of senior discounts, I’m 50, and I’ve noticed that senior discount questions started in my 30’s, and that they happen most often at places like Goodwill, where the discount can really make a difference in someone’s life.
It never feels good, but I try to tell myself that they are being trained to ask everyone who looks over 30, so as not to miss anyone.
Kind of like how Costco checks your receipt not to make sure you didn’t steal, but to make sure you got everything you paid for.
Yes, this, exactly. I’m 45 and have been asked a few times – I’m not offended at all. They typically aren’t asking because you “look old,” they’re asking because I’m sure it’s a huge PITA for them to have to adjust something in the cash register system. We have a couple stores called American Thrift (like Goodwill), and they have certain days where things are really discounted for seniors. Goodwill employees often ask if you are eligible for a senior, military or teacher’s discount.
I can’t get fussed about this. It does at times give me pause though… as in, “Well, DO I look that old?!”
At our local goodwill locations, Monday is Senior Day – on that day, they ask literally every person if they qualify for a senior discount. I have observed obvious children buying toys with their allowance money being asked if they qualify. On occasion, on regular days, certain overzealous cashiers still ask every single customer whether they qualify. I submit that you got one of these types of Goodwill employees.
When we were in Wisconsin last fall my wife and son and I went out to dinner with my aunt and my dad, in the small town where my aunt lives. When we ordered (at the counter) they asked my dad (age 64) if he qualified for the senior discount, and he started to say no, but my aunt (who had been in the restroom) interjected that he did, and they rang it up that way. She then told us that at least at this restaurant they give the senior discount to everyone age 50 and over, which seems like a real stretch of the word senior to me, but whatever. I am holding on to this story for the day that I first get asked about a senior discount, because I’d rather be mistaken for maybe 50 than maybe 65.
In college I worked at a convenience store. I have always been terrible at judging people’s ages, so my rule was, “If you don’t look old enough to be my mom or dad, you’re getting carded.” I only had one beer buyer remain huffy after I told her my rule. She was 35. She also came in barefoot, wearing a bikini top and cutoff shorts.
One age related comment I’ve been getting recently is “You don’t look old enough to have 4 kids!” Which I choose to take as a complement rather than a suggestion that I was a teen mom haha.
I work near several coffee and sandwich shops. When I stop to purchase something from one of them, I usually ask for a bag. Pretty much every single time, the cashier–running through a prescribed litany of customer-service lines, I presume–concludes the transaction by asking if I want a bag. When I just asked for one. It’s almost every time, without fail.
I think the Goodwill transaction must have been like that–“Do you qualify for a senior citizens’ discount?” is just in the patter, and muscle memory made the cashier spit it out without thinking!
I use this company to recycle clothing and textiles that are not in good enough condition for resale:
http://www.usagain.com/
Where I live (MN/WI), they have big recycling bins in the parking lot of business that you just drop items in. I keep a bag in my closet and throw in holey and stained clothes and drop it off when it gets full.
Also – at my kids’ high school boys wearing pink seems to be completely acceptable.
I get annoyed when my clearly over 21 self gets carded at places where they card everyone, like nightclubs. I thought one benefit of aging is that I wouldn’t have to dig through my purse for my ID.
I don’t dye my hair anymore so some people think I’m older than I am. I hope it’s a pay it forward type of thing so when I’m 20 years older, people will say I never age.
I love your reuse of the shirt! Also, if you have an H and M nearby, they take unwearable, used clothes and recycle them for insulation. You also get a 15% off store coupon.
Ok, I checked and the age for the senior discount at the store where I was asked about it yesterday is 55. Which is lower than I thought it would be, yet still over a decade away from my current age. I hear the commenters who are saying that the staff are trained to ask virtually anyone who might possibly qualify so that they can take advantage of the discount, the worker doesn’t have to redo the transaction if someone realizes it too late, etc. And according to the website of the pharmacy, they have special days when seniors get extra savings, and yesterday was such a day. So, ok. I get that.
Nevertheless, it still bummed me out that I must look SOMEWHERE in the realm of qualifying. Which, if I am ready to face facts, perhaps I do. And I’m a person who generally resists the notion that I’m supposed to do everything I can to look younger. I just…oh well.
“It was a little tempting to say yes and take the discount as compensation for my injured feelings.” This line was pure gold!
I also love it when guys – who can pull off the color – wear pink. My husband could probably pull it off but most likely wouldn’t wear it, I think. Man-Child also can pull it off, and has no problem with wearing it.
I love the bleach t-shirt you “saved!”
While pregnant with my first child a store clerk enthusiastically insisted I looked just like an actress who is twice my age. “Just like her!!” cheerily, wide-eyed with delight. She is a lovely, talented woman, but I was still unprepared for this comparison, especially at that very pregnant moment. I think it was this blog where I heard the advice to only compliment things that the person could have changed/picked out, etc. that same day. I feel like the universe needs this information.
So. Some years ago, when I was 41, I fell and broke my arm quite badly — basically as high up as humanly possible, the break was near my torso and a lot of my body ended up bound up while I healed. Needed surgery. Post surgery (by a few days), I came in for a follow-up x-ray. The tech lines me up to take the picture, “Shouldn’t I have a [lead] apron?” I ask? “Oh,” she says, “Well, we usually only give those to women in their childbearing years, but sure, you can have one.” I reassured myself with the thought that I hadn’t had a proper shower or been able to wash my hair (properly) since the break (see above about torso). But still! Ugh. And no discount in sight!
So, unrelated to clothes but you mentioned taking one child for allergy shots. I would love to hear about your (and his) experience. My son just received an allergy shot recommendation from his allergist and we are really trying to decide. It’s a major commitment (2 shots/week for 6 months and tapering down from there for a total of 3-5 years)! My son is seriously upset about the thought of getting regular shots and I’m trying to decide if it’s worth it or just keep giving him his 3 allergy meds every morning…
Tried to reply to you but failed to attach it as a reply — it’s below.
Sure! Henry gets one shot per week, and the schedule is a little different but basically that same type of thing: weekly for awhile, then tapering down, lasting a few years. Henry was a little apprehensive (he HATES getting the flu shot every year and really dreads it), but after each shot he was saying things like “That was not as bad as I thought” and “It’s funny how the anticipation is the worst part” and so on, and after even a few weeks he was completely over being nervous/bothered. He said the other day that he’s looking forward to not dreading his flu shot this year!
I REALLY HATE the inconvenience of getting him the shots (it’s a 40-minute trip each way), BUT…if it WORKS, that would be SO GREAT. I got allergy shots myself as a kid, and now have very little trouble with allergies; they used to plague me year-round. Also, once he’s at the maintenance dose, the allergist said we could see if our pediatrician (5-minute trip) would be willing to do the shots there instead, which would be SO MUCH BETTER.
The allergist has suggested shots for Elizabeth, too, but she is SO freaked out at the idea, I haven’t pushed it. I am kind of torn between pushing/insisting and waiting/seeing. Henry was driving us BERSERK with his sniffing so I didn’t really give him a choice, whereas her allergies are less intrusive/annoying.
The main thing bothering me is that the shots…don’t seem to be helping. We’ve been going since OCTOBER and sometimes I think they’re working a little and that he’s just in the habit of sniffing, and sometimes I think they’re doing NOTHING. Which seems non-encouraging. I talked to the allergist about it and she didn’t seem at all concerned, but surely if the shots are working we should be seeing results by now?
Thanks!
My experience working retail has left me embittered toward the shopping public, so my guess is that a youthful looking senior was not offered the discount, and raised an enormous fuss. Having survived the barrage of abuse, the clerk is nevertheless damaged by the experience, and desperate not to endure it again; therefore, her new attitude is “screw it, if they’re my age or older, I’m asking if they qualify.”
As I said, though, retail made me a bitter, angry, wounded person.
;)
This is ancient, but back in the 1970s when we were kids, my brother, who was allergic to practically everything (or at least to many, many things) got allergy shots for many years. What I remember is that after she took him to get his allergy shot, my mom took him to get ice cream (which, apparently, he was not allergic to…) and that I, the non-allergic kid, felt I was getting shorted and he had the better deal. Also, as an older kid and adult, he is not allergic to anything that I know of. So, in case there’s anything useful in there for you, there it is.
The senior discount…I started having gray hair when I was in high school, and by the time I was in my thirties, I was mostly gray. The funny thing-I finally stopped coloring my hair in my 50’s (the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done for myself), I remember being maybe 51 and being asked if I qualified for the senior discount. I totally get why they asked, the gray hair is a given indicator. What was funny is they had a 55 yr rule as a senior and I didn’t qualify. I felt so guilty, even though I wanted the discount. So I couldn’t say yes-even now being 58-I realize they wouldn’t ask me for my freaking driver’s license! As I get older, I do rue my rule following nature more and more!