Two weekends ago, my husband suggested we go to a nearby Friendly’s for breakfast. Our server was quite young—late high school or early college age. Anyway, when she brought the check at the end of the meal, she included a “senior” discount to the check. I, being a woman and a sort of crazy writer type, was appalled. My husband, being the engineer and not a crazy writer type, was tickled pink. He laughed off the incident reveling in the knowledge that he had three dollars in his wallet he didn’t think he would have.
I texted my daughter with the words, “HOW OLD DO I LOOK? FRIENDLY’S GAVE US A SENIOR DISCOUNT!”
Sensing my desperation because she possesses great intuition and well, I wrote the message in all caps, she replied, “You do not look old enough for a senior discount. You are nowhere near the age of a senior discount. I bet Dad liked it though.” (That’s the intuitive part)
I felt better but I did buy a face mask and new wrinkle cream on the way home. After a few days, my fragile ego bounced back, so when my husband suggested another Friendly’s breakfast a week later, I consented. I know he was looking forward to the discount and I was looking forward to someone else cooking.
This time, our waiter was older than God. He greeted us with the words, “What can I get you kids?” My husband could not hide his disappointment, and I couldn’t resist gloating. I leaned over and said,
“Sometimes Karma works quickly and sometimes Karma works slowly, but either way, it almost always a bitch. Pay the man.”