It's Only A Number

I've reached that "awkward" age -- in the first half of my 50's: not an old guy, not a kid, though I still feel more like a kid than an alta kocker. I really can't quite accept that I am as old as I am, and don't think I show my age. Most people tell me I look like I'm in my mid-40's.

I'm also at an age at which, when younger women "look" at me, I'm not quite sure whether they're flirting, or thinking I might be a good match for their mother.

Today, as I was getting out of my car in Hollywood on my way to a voice lesson (see, so youthful!) a very striking young (24 years old?) woman was getting into hers, parked just in front of me. Slender and beautiful in the "girl next door" sort of way, wearing a tiny denim mini skirt and form-fitting top, she made a point of giving me a big smile - both as we first made eye contact, and again as I walked by her older little sporty car with Ohio plates and a few dents.

"She's probably here trying to "make" it in the biz, thinking maybe I could help her out along with way" I suggested to my voice teacher, who's in his 30's and in a committed relationship with his 25 year-old boyfriend. "She must figure I've got money because of my car."

For whatever reason, I've had a good number of 20-somethings "flirt" with me in the last six months. The only one I got to know at all seemed to genuinely like me, but was looking for someone in the "help me out" category. Of course, some would say that's what most relationships are. In any event, what could be stopping me from acting on the "opportunity" other than wishing to avoid being labeled a "dirty old man?"

***

After finishing my voice lesson, my teacher, his boyfriend, and a mutual friend, a 38 year-old rock musician headed out to beat the heat (it reached 95 today in Hollywood) with a light meal at the local Souplantation restaurant. After filling our plates with salad, I was the last of us in line at the cashier. For some reason, a young cashier came out from her register to ask me if I'd like anything else, tell me what my total would be ($7.49), and to take my money and send me on my way to find a table while my friends continued to stand in line to pay.

I guessed the cashier figured I shouldn't have to stand in line behind those scary looking young people, but didn't give it much thought until my friends commented on how the all-you-can-eat lunch was well worth the $11.00 cost.

While they ordered drinks and I hadn't, that didn't seem to make up for the price differential, so I pulled my receipt out to confirm what I had paid. And there it was: "Senior discount."

A milestone, though one which I've been awaiting with some dread.

I wonder what the 24 year-old woman would have thought?