“Would you like to use your discount today?” asked the young lad behind the drugstore counter.
I gazed at him blankly.
What discount? I thought.
Was there a special on today that I didn’t know about?
Had I somehow missed a promotional sign in the store?
Was I having a senior moment?
A bout of sometimer’s disease?
And then the penny dropped.
I should say the two quarters and a nickel.
The 55 Special.
The SENIOR discount.
I laughed and asked if it was that obvious.
He said not to worry, I looked fabulous!
How’s that for back treading!
And what the heck.
Those senior discounts add up.
They are the one small compensation for the excruciatingly unpleasant experience of getting older.
And many of those discounts start at the ripe old age of 55.
For example, if I stop in at a certain chicken restaurant on a Monday, I can get a senior discount.
When I turn 60, I will have a deep discount at any of the City of Barrie recreation programs.
And that is also the age that the Canadian Pension Plan will offer me back some of the money that I have put in over the course of my working life, should I choose to take it.
By the time I hit 65, well, the discounts will know no boundaries.
Travel companies and cruiselines will welcome me with open arms, and drastic discounts.
Even more restaurants will offer me senior specials, although I will undoubtedly have to eat during the late afternoon.
Perhaps it is part of a sympathy ploy by society.
An appeasement of sorts offered to help with the suffering.
To make bearable the knowledge we are nearly at the ends of our proverbial ropes.
And to also help with the “fixed income” that comes with the twilight years.
I looked at the young fellow at the drugstore counter where he had checked out my items.
I thought of saying to him, how dare he, I am only 49!
But then my thriftiness got the better of me.
I said sure, please use my discount.
And, as a reward for putting my ego and pride aside, I saved 20 dollars.
A senior moment, indeed.
A moment that would make any millenial green with envy.