The other day I came down from my shower and poured my coffee, then sat in my chair in the den. Looking to place my cup, I see a credit card next to my chair. Across the table sat TLW (The Little Woman). Picking up the card that reads: “AARP” I inquire, “What’s this?” (A credit card that says AARP, knucklehead)
TWL says it’s a credit card that says: AARP!
“Yes, it gives you 10% off at an escort service.”
“Oh? Where am I going?”
“More importantly: why?”
“Well don’t worry, it does give you instructions.”
When I turned 50 they started sending me the official literature for old people. It read in essence:
“Congratulations! You are now entitled to embarrass all your children in public, go to dinner at mid-afternoon, and drive at 20 mph with your left turn signal on for as long as you like. When you discover that, you then can switch it to the right turn signal to complete your drive. The AARP card allows you to leave your overloaded shopping cart in the middle of the aisle where you can stare at the products on the shelf and try to read them. What’s more, you may let one loose anywhere you choose, including office buildings and churches. You are entitled to the complete medical dictionary to carry on intelligent conversations with others your age, while identifying drugs and what they will do to you.”
And so I proudly carry my card, knowing that all that is available to me, and that as I cross streets, or am about to open a door, someone will be there for me. When I stand, go: OOUUUUUFFFF! People will not stare, just wait to see if I die.
Getting old is not so bad, you have new places to hide small change, like in your wrinkles, you become faster when you sit down, the gravity pulls you down, and best of all, when someone asks you for a favor or money, you can say with confidence: “WHAT?”