The wonderful thing about personal profiles, unlike birth certificates, is that they are so easily changed. Last year I swore I would never again get older; this year, in an amazing show of chutzpah, I'm taking it even further. I'm going to get younger. Maybe even much younger. Like the Oil of Olay woman, I refuse to gracefully accept my fate. I spit in the collective AARP's face. If they are willing to admit their age just to save two dollars on a movie ticket, let them. All year long, people say to me, "48? Oh-you don't look it." THIS year, they can say,"45? Oh." Or what the hell- "40??? No kidding!"
What are they gonna do? Laugh in my face? Challenge me? Ask for proof? Let them check my profile. Which this week I'm changing to 47. Next week, 46. I'll stop when it feels good.
As God is my witness, I would rather go hungry than order the Senior Citizen's Plate at Wyatt's. |
