So there we were sitting at Mr. Kebab at the Ayala Technohub, digesting our meat laden lunch with not-so-idle conversation. We had asked for the bill and were just waiting to see how much it was so we could split it, when a young waitress politely asks me if I had a senior citizen’s card.
I’m used to being asked that, especially since I had stopped dyeing my hair back to chestnut brown after it has almost completely turned grey. While I am not exactly old enough to qualify for senior life insurance, I more often than not look the part. I would rather go with the flow than act offended, so I told the waitress, “Oh dear, I forgot my card at home…”
But my co-worker Joed quickly interjects, “But you aren’t a senior citizen yet, are you?” To which I say, “No, but it’s better than taking the waitress to task for thinking that I was.”
What I didn’t realize was that the waitress was still behind me, and had heard everything we said. She quickly and quite profusely apologized, but I waved it casually away. It’s ok, really. But I think the best reply to a situation like that would be what my friend Seth would like to say, one of these days:
“Hindi edad yan, konsumisyon yan!“