I love a good bargain. I love shopping the sales and finding just what I want at a reduced price. When shopping online I'll even add that one more item to my total just to get free shipping, but now I've got a bargain that I didn't bargain for.
After church on Sunday, I met some of my family at Wendy's for lunch. Wendy's is one of the fast food chains that I like because they have options on the menu that I can order without going over my calorie allotment for the day in one meal.
But on Sunday, when I walked up to the counter to order my meager meal, something strange happened. I gave the order taker my sandwich and drink order and waited for the grand total . . . $1.94 the young lady said sweetly. I looked at her blankly as I handed her a twenty. She was still smiling as she counted back my change. I stepped aside to wait as my mother ordered her meal. The same young lady announced my mother's grand total, $1.94.
That's when the realization hit me square in the face - I had just been served with a FREE senior citizen soft drink!
I thought I had done a nice job coloring "those few" gray hairs so that they weren't visible, and my face had been spackled and smoothed by a whole stack of cosmetics just that morning.
What was it that had caused the order taker to automatically size me up as a senior citizen in one quick glance? I thought it over as I sipped the free drink.
It had to be the shoes. My poor feet had begged me to give up any kind of shoes that even remotely resembled stylish. They only wanted cushy comfort these days.
Even my beloved cork wedges were now too painful to wear.
Now my feet begged for soft orthopedic plain Mary Janes. At this stage of my life my feet just say 'no' to heels, wedges, and sandals. So my secret is out, there is no hiding one's shoes. If the order girl at Wendy's can spot them, then I'm sure the whole world can see them. There's not a lot I can do about the situation. I won't torture my feet in the name of vanity, but apparently comfortable shoes = OLD.
So I'll continue to color my hair, spackle my face, and put my best, although painful and unstylish, foot forward.
Hmm . . . I wonder if Subway has a senior citizen special?
After church on Sunday, I met some of my family at Wendy's for lunch. Wendy's is one of the fast food chains that I like because they have options on the menu that I can order without going over my calorie allotment for the day in one meal.
But on Sunday, when I walked up to the counter to order my meager meal, something strange happened. I gave the order taker my sandwich and drink order and waited for the grand total . . . $1.94 the young lady said sweetly. I looked at her blankly as I handed her a twenty. She was still smiling as she counted back my change. I stepped aside to wait as my mother ordered her meal. The same young lady announced my mother's grand total, $1.94.
That's when the realization hit me square in the face - I had just been served with a FREE senior citizen soft drink!
I thought I had done a nice job coloring "those few" gray hairs so that they weren't visible, and my face had been spackled and smoothed by a whole stack of cosmetics just that morning.
What was it that had caused the order taker to automatically size me up as a senior citizen in one quick glance? I thought it over as I sipped the free drink.
It had to be the shoes. My poor feet had begged me to give up any kind of shoes that even remotely resembled stylish. They only wanted cushy comfort these days.
So I'll continue to color my hair, spackle my face, and put my best, although painful and unstylish, foot forward.
Hmm . . . I wonder if Subway has a senior citizen special?
After church on Sunday, I met some of my family at Wendy's for lunch. Wendy's is one of the fast food chains that I like because they have options on the menu that I can order without going over my calorie allotment for the day in one meal.
But on Sunday, when I walked up to the counter to order my meager meal, something strange happened. I gave the order taker my sandwich and drink order and waited for the grand total . . . $1.94 the young lady said sweetly. I looked at her blankly as I handed her a twenty. She was still smiling as she counted back my change. I stepped aside to wait as my mother ordered her meal. The same young lady announced my mother's grand total, $1.94.
That's when the realization hit me square in the face - I had just been served with a FREE senior citizen soft drink!
I thought I had done a nice job coloring "those few" gray hairs so that they weren't visible, and my face had been spackled and smoothed by a whole stack of cosmetics just that morning.
What was it that had caused the order taker to automatically size me up as a senior citizen in one quick glance? I thought it over as I sipped the free drink.
It had to be the shoes. My poor feet had begged me to give up any kind of shoes that even remotely resembled stylish. They only wanted cushy comfort these days.
So I'll continue to color my hair, spackle my face, and put my best, although painful and unstylish, foot forward.
Hmm . . . I wonder if Subway has a senior citizen special?
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