Kohls had lots of great sales going today. So while Pam was working, I was spending.
As I grabbed a shirt near the bottom of a stack, a pin stabbed my thumb. Deep. And then it started bleeding…and bleeding…and wouldn’t stop. I finally found a wastebasket with some of that flimsy paper they wrap within dress shirts. Wrapped it around my thumb, and the bleeding finally stopped.
Then I went to pay for my items.
The checkout girl asked, “Do you qualify for the senior discount?”
A few hours before, I’d had a good workout at the Y. I felt young, vigorous, and hale. But now…just how old did I look?
“It depends,” I responded, “on what age the discount starts.” After all, you can join AARP as soon as you turn 50.
“62,” the gal said.
I’m 53. But to her, I looked like I could be at least 62.
I decided I didn’t like Kohls anymore.
