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Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #2017254

My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum.

I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon.
February 20, 2017 at 7:22pm
February 20, 2017 at 7:22pm
#905080
PROMPT: What is the most embarrassing thing ( merchandise, employee, customer,or otherwise) you can recall seeing in a retail store environment?
          Why yes, yes I have spotted embarrassing things while out partaking of retail therapy. Perhaps a few were of my own making, or that of my inquisitive children. I recall an irresistible fountain, an escalator, and a full length mirror, but I shall merely tease with them...
         Picture if you will a grocery store teeming with shoppers in search of their next meal. Fruit is fondled, vegetables are viewed, boxes beckon, tins are tossed, and expiry dates are examined. Most customers have chosen to dress casually.
          One day, when thankfully I was unescorted, and thus had no kids-with-questions, a senior citizen, undeniably a woman, caught my unbelieving eye. Her hair, dishevelled and white, sprouted from her pink scalp, her brows, and her jutting chin. She exposed herself to my shock as she leaned over a refrigerated bin to rummage amongst plastic-wrapped portions of meat. Shapeless polyester pants were pulled high and snug to under her breasts; pendulous , naked breasts sagging past her hidden waist line. Whoa! There was an absence of a bra, or a camisole, or a vest, or a shirt, or a jacket. Yep, she'd let it all hang out. For some reason, I cannot recall the colour of those hiked pants, but they also dangled, somewhere between her knees and feet. Her feet were encased in sturdy sneakers with loose, lolling laces.
                   No one seemed to be staring directly at her, or engaging her in conversation. Was this politeness? Who were any of us to question her minimal style?


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/nannamom/day/2-20-2017