I treated myself to a trip to the hairdressers recently. My one hour to sit, relax and switch off all whilst listening to the goings on of other patrons. Its amazing what people talk about. Anyhow, I usually zone out but in my Mrs Magoo state I actually looked in the mirror. Squinting I asked myself ‘who the heck is that woman?’ Oh my lord when had I got that old?
Not only did that woman look old she looked tired. Some days I will admit I feel shattered. Dragging myself out of bed to the day job is a chore but yet I still don’t consider myself old. Mentally; certainly not. I still snigger at an inappropriate comment. Always find the double entendre in a conversation, all without trying. Will happily pull faces when people wind me up. All very child like.
Can you imagine my consternation a couple of days later when I was walking home from work when a young male made a comment that at the time shocked me but I still found the funny side of it. I was walking into the underpass when this guy shot past on his bike, just missing me. He yells out woman. A few seconds later as I was about to round the corner another guy on a bike shot past even closer than the first cyclist. Sorry he said as he carried on at breakneck speed.
He then yells out ‘Dude, lucky you warned me or that old b*t*h would be dead!’ Should I be offended? Surprised? I’ve been called worse. Mind you he was probably right as he sure would have taken me off my feet. I suppose to them; late teens I would guess, I am old. Would I have dreamt of saying something like that at their age? Not that loudly for sure. Telling my friends they all laughed; for various reasons, but they know me well.
It got me wondering, who gets to define what is old? I know when you are younger the thought of being forty seems ancient but as as you get older and the years tick by you realise it is no age. Society can’t make up its mind. On one hand we are classified as old around early to mid sixties however they want us to work longer. Yet someone dying at that age is not seen as old. I am a good few years off that age group thanks, in case you were wondering.
People say age is just a number and I guess that is true. Also I suppose your health has bearing on how you feel too. Wouldn’t it be nice if people could actually look past that number and value you as the person and knowledge you have gained over the years. I will admit I find myself telling my husband about things that have happened and go to say the person was old, but now I have to consider they may not be that many years older than me and I don’t want that label.
So tonight walking home a group of young teens in the other side of the road and one yells out ‘alright Nan?!’ That stung more than the other comment. I mean I am a step Nan to three and an Aunt and Great Aunt to quite a few but what gives them the right. I wasn’t even wearing my Granny trousers. I gave them my well practised ‘not impressed’ glare to which one sheepishly said sorry.
So this tired looking woman has booked a few days off and we are heading to the coast. Old biddy town obviously. No making use of OAP rates: I don’t qualify. Will we behave inappropriately? Possibly. Will there be childish giggling and sniggering? For sure. I may take some change from the pot and hit the arcade. Ice cream and donuts? Not telling! There will be drinking! Hopefully I won’t make the news…. but I make no promises. E x