I had an experience at the grocery store yesterday that really threw me for a loop.
I had just dashed in on my way home from Rotary to pick up a couple of items, including a twelve-pack of Yuengling, and was at the express checkout. As I swiped my debit card, the cashier, dragging my beer over the scanner, said, “Are you over 60?”
What?! I haven’t been carded for alcohol in a looong time, but this was my first reaction, followed by the immediate realization that surely the drinking age hadn’t been raised to 60 while I wasn’t paying attention!
Belatedly it dawned on me. The supermarket I patronize has changed hands several times in the last few years. Grocery stores in general are struggling in competition with Wal-Mart and other superstores, and this store, originally owned by a local family company, has been lucky to survive at all. The most recent new owners had just celebrated a Grand Reopening last week (to coincide with the Grand Opening of a new Publix), boasting hundreds of price reductions and other new features, including a senior discount (2½%) on Wednesdays.
Although it took just an instant for the penny to drop, and I immediately gabbled that yes, in fact I’ll be qualifying for Medicare in just a couple of months, I was so rattled by this blip in my routine that I momentarily forgot my PIN and had to actually think before punching in the numbers, usually a purely reflex action.
As they say, getting old is not for sissies—but it does have its perks. Now I just have to figure out how I’m going to squander the fifty-two cents I saved with the discount.
