I knew this kind of thing happened, I just didn’t think it would happen to me. 

At the old, decrepit age of 25, I was told by someone that I am “too old” for them.

I should’ve known. The wrinkles have been setting in. Every morning, I wake up with a new pain in a different joint. I take so many pills and supplements, I need one of those pill sorters. 

I’m patiently awaiting the day I’ll need a cane. I know this day is right around the corner. 

How It All Happened

It was Halloween weekend. (Notice, I didn’t refer to it as “Halloweekend,” as I’m simply too old for that. That’s for the youngsters.)

I dared to go out–my costume a bold declaration of my age: the mouse from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Who even knows what that book is anymore? It’s been centuries since it came out. 

I was enjoying my time at a bar, because, yes, even elders still go to bars. I was sipping on some quirky little cocktail, something I probably don’t deserve to enjoy in my sunset years, when I saw him.

A dapper young gentleman, someone with whom I would’ve enjoyed becoming acquainted. He had a sharp jawline and was dressed in a simple white button-up. He was sipping a beer. I (FALSELY) assumed he was around my age–he certainly couldn’t have been older than 24. My fault for assuming, as he was so dangerously underage at 23 years old. 

I looked to my friend and wingwoman for the night and gestured to the man (man? Do you call a 23-year-old a man?), and she swooped in on my behalf. 

I nervously looked to my other friend, seeming open, but not daring to look right at them as this delicate exchange took place. She was talking to them for quite some time, which I knew was either a great sign or a terrible one. 

Finally, she returned. She had the tiniest smirk on her face. 

“Ah, that guy sucks anyway,” she said. 

Perfect! Just the response I was hoping for, and I definitely didn’t almost throw up when she said that.

I prepped for the worst. He probably said I was the most hideous person he’d ever seen. He probably left the bar just because he couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as me anymore. Matter of fact, he was probably contacting a hitman on his way out. 

“What did he say? Do I even want to know?” I asked, looking urgently for a bathroom, just in case. 

“Well,” she began, and I almost passed out. Night over. Let’s go ahead and pack it up now.

“No, I mean, he said you were hot,” she continued.

Right, right, right…. 

“He just said you were too old for him,” she finished.

Riiiiight, right, right, right, right. 

The room started spinning. In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t anxiety. Maybe I had forgotten to take my high blood pressure medication (or whatever old-person medication I should probably be taking, y’know, since I’m so old). 

So, as you can imagine, I’ve been spiraling ever since. 

Life As An Old Woman

I’ve taken to spending my days at the park, feeding birds. 

I come home and resume my knitting projects. 

I am in bed by 8 PM sharp, as my body doesn’t allow me to stay up late anymore. 

And I have most definitely learned my lesson about hitting on younger men.