There’s a special kind of insult that comes disguised as good customer service.
I was at a restaurant when a woman asked if I was a senior citizen so I could get a discount.
Now, I appreciate saving money as much as the next person. Hell, these days I’ll take a discount wherever I can get one.
But *senior citizen?*
I asked her how old you had to be to qualify.
“65,” she said.
Well, shit.
I’m **55**.
Fifty-five. Not sixty-five. That’s an entire decade she just handed me, and I didn’t even get a birthday cake.
So I joked that I could just tell her I was old enough and get the discount anyway.
And in the most innocent voice imaginable, she said:
“But that would be lying.”
Well, bless her heart.
First, she aged me ten years. Then she questioned my moral character.
And all I wanted was something to eat.