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I will justify spending $4.00 for a latte, if I really want it.  However, the other day I just wanted a regular cup of coffee, so I went to McDonald’s where it costs $1.07 (tax).  The coffee there is great, by the way.  A young female cashier, about sixteen years old, handed me my small cup of coffee.  “That will be fifty cents,” she said.  Wow, a 50% sale on $l.00 coffee, way to go McDonald’s!  However, I didn’t notice any signs indicating such a sale so out of curiosity I asked the young cashier why?  “Senior discount,” she said.

Seriously???? I just stared at her but she didn’t pick up on my reaction.  I am definitely not a senior citizen but evidently to the young female cashier I was.  So I nodded my head in appreciation and graciously accepted the fifty cent savings.  Despite the fact that I had saved fifty cents, that cup of coffee did not taste as good as it would have had I paid full price.  Slowly I forced myself to drink it, thinking latte all the while and reflected that for most of my teenage and adult life, I have looked much younger than my age (I got carded until I was 29).  This young female cashier, however, had shot an arrow through my time machine.

As I continued to sip the coffee, I recalled one day during my teaching career when my adorable, laden with curiosity sophomores wanted to know my age.  Of course, I informed them that it was none of their business but they persisted (I was 47).  Trying anything to get off topic, they finally got me to promise to tell them if they guessed correctly.  I chose that as the path of least resistance.  They huddled in a group, then sized me up and down.  They remembered that I had talked about my daughters who were about their age so they concluded that I would have to have been at least as old as their parents (as old?).  I shuddered and then remembered that I perceived thirty as old when I was their age.  After much deliberation, they finally arrived at a consensus.  We were off topic but at least this inquiry had evolved into a successful group project.  They reminded me of my promise to answer honestly if they guessed correctly.  I reassured them that I would keep my promise.

Again, the students looked me up and down, as if the first time were not enough.  More stalling!  They were still in their huddle and I could not decipher their mumbling voices.  Finally, the spokesperson stood.  “We all agree that you have to be at least thirty-five,” he proudly announced.  The others nodded in agreement and I just stared at their silly little faces and wondered if their thrill of accomplishment was because they had managed to divert the lesson for this amount of time or because they really felt that they had guessed my age.  I did not want to disappoint them.  I had to keep my promise.  Would I dare tell them that I was forty-seven?  I gazed into their bright, hopeful eyes and delivered on my promise.

“Yes, you guessed correctly,” I said.  They all stood and cheered and slapped high fives and said a million I told you so’s.  Then I told them that if anyone asked, it would be okay to say my age.

I thought about the young female cashier at McDonald’s and had hoped that she had the same warped perception of age – that thirty was old.  I texted my twenty-four year old daughter about this McDonald’s episode but made sure to include that I was lol-ing in my heart so she wouldn’t become too concerned about me.  She immediately texted back and agreed with a sixteen year-old’s perception of old.  But I needed more proof!

My ego was in check but my vanity had gotten the best of me.  I returned to the same McDonald’s later that day and waited in line to order a small cup of coffee.  There were two people ahead of me which gave me enough time to exit the line, but still I remained.  I didn’t really want a cup of coffee – I just needed to know!  As I watched those last chicken nuggets being placed on the tray, I knew I still had time to leave.  The pressure was escalating.  Would I be able to withstand it a second time?  What was I trying to prove?  I was not forty-seven any longer, yet I was not a senior citizen by any means.  The person in front of me received his full order.  It was time for me to step forward or step out.  I had to see this through so I boldly stepped forward to the counter and looked directly into the eyes of a young male cashier (I think he was 18).  Did it matter that he was male?  I ordered a small coffee with milk.  I scrutinized his every move as he poured the coffee into a cup.  He then reached into the refrigerator and took out the milk and added it to the coffee.  Still watching his every move, he reached for a lid, placed it on the cup, and then turned around and handed it to me.  The young man moved his hands towards the register and began to tap in the numbers.  Ring it up three digits, not two, I semi-prayed.  He stopped tapping the keys, and he looked at me.  “That will be $1.07 ma’am,” he said.  Coffee never tasted so good!

I texted my daughter, “Having a great day.  Got charged full price for a cup of coffee!”  She did not respond.

(c) 2012 Linda Stone Cohen All Rights Reserved

Remember that no amount of money can purchase grace, wisdom and humility.        Until tomorrow…