I’m at the airport, again, heading East. The only good thing about that is the temperature in Baltimore this morning…and nice 40º. Sounds much better than this crazy 20! Gah.
Hint: try to travel on Monday. The airport is empty (compared to a weekend). Love.
So, I’m going through the line……I.D. and boarding pass in hand. I give both to the Security-man, and he’s all kinds of cheery. It’s 6:45 a.m. He says this:
“Good morning young lady! Well now, are you under 18??”
Um, what?!…..Me: “Hm, nope. I’m actually 22.”
“Ha, look at that! You sure are! Well honey, if you told me you were under 18 I’d certainly believe ya” *wink*
Yes, that’s great. But I’m not.
If there’s any doubt, don’t blatantly guess somebody’s age. Really? There’s a good chance that you’re wrong. And when you’re 22 and somebody asks if you’re UNDER 18?! Not a good way to start the morning. Adding to this, when I got my hair cut over the summer, the hairdresser asked me what I was doing for the summer. When she realized I was just out of college, she proceeds to say “Oh Wow! I thought you were still in high school, for sure.” The main point being that she already knew I wasn’t. Why would you still voice this?!? I’m baffled.
Sure, in 10 years this will be a huge compliment – assuming I don’t find some way to destroy my ‘young’ looks before then. But right now? It’s not welcomed. I know I don’t look 22. I know that when I order a drink people probably take a second glance at my ID, just to be sure. I know that my younger sister looks older than me. I get it. And when I’m 40 and people think that maybe I’m only 36, I’ll probably want to give them a big ol’ hug. And maybe I’ll do it.
Alright. That’s my rant for the morning. It’s not even 8 a.m. yet. The Atlanta airport better have good Frozen Yogurt (for whatever reason I love to get this in airports. who knows) and good magazines for me to look at.