The Age of Retirement
by Will Bailey
Steak please.
I’m over the hill. At least that’s what an envelope stuffer in Washington D.C. must think. How do I know this? Because I recently received a membership application for the AARP-the American Association of Retired Persons. I have to admit: at first I was excited about the insulated travel bag, perfect for trips to the aquarium with your grandkids, that comes as a free gift when you complete the membership form. There was also some talk of saving money on groceries (yes, please), travel discounts (you bet!), age discrimination protection (huh?) and Medicare benefits (again…huh?) Of course, I wasn’t wearing my prescription wrap-around reading glasses, and must have missed the fine print at the bottom. What’s the fine print, you ask? YOU HAVE TO BE FIFTY YEARS OLD. Was I just shouting? Sorry. I’m feeling a little…cranky. It’s not every day that wild promises of discounted meals at The Sizzler (4:30 – 5:15 PM only), and bags, are waved in your face, only to be cruelly snatched away by fine print. Although I suppose the irony of the situation is almost as delicious as the twelve dollar steak that comes pre-cut when you show your AARP Membership Card at participating restaurants. Despite all the mention of age discrimination, I can’t even qualify for the fabulous spoils that come with non-profit retirement interest group membership for another twenty-four years. How do you like them apples? Perhaps I should write a strongly worded letter to the ACLU, explaining that I have been denied my basic right to a cheap steak and a Free Gift because of my age. Then again, I did receive an AARP enrollment card with an activation code. Maybe if I flash it at the waiter like a detective’s badge they won’t be able to tell the difference.
I can’t wait to be old and get an AARP hat like my father. Printed on the front is “Senior Citizen Discount”. That gets rid of all the card-checking nonsense. I don’t go anywhere in public with him but I might consider meeting him at a Sizzler.
The insulated travel bag is for insulin.
Angie you are too damn funny. Your father is probably mortified by you, too. As they say, the family that embarrasses together, stays together …
I still get carded at restaurants. Maybe I should start wearing a hat that has a screen print of my I.D. on the brim.
Actually, getting those mailers is even worse when you DO qualify. Trust me.
But the absolute worst part is when they send you magazines with cover pictures of folks you were madly in love with when you were an embryo. Robert Redford. Paul McCartney (he’s now WAY over 64, sniff, sniff).
Getting old sucks.
I hear ya.
By the way, I’ll take your insulated travel bag if you don’t want it.
No. You are too young to have an insulated travel bag like mine. I earned it. I am entitled to it. I have been PAYING for this insulated travel bag since I first started working ….
[snatches insulated travel bag, runs into dead-end alleyway, walks back with head down muttering apologies and gives you back bag]
So you’re not such a whippersnapper after all. Good thing I didn’t “Stand My Ground,” huh?
Scumbag AARP: Promise you protection from ageist discrimination, won’t give you a cheap steak because of your age.
You might say that there is principle at steak here?
[applause, bows]
A-thank you.
You’re so punny I cracked a rib.
First steak, now ribs???
Quit grilling me!
…that one was bad, really bad.