“I grow old…
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled…”
— TS Eliot, “Lovesong of J.Alfred Prufrock”
Yeah, I hear you, Alfred.
The other day, I decided to try out a new barber shop. A nice young Greek fellow named Nick did a fine job. When he finished, since there’s a “seniors” discount, he politely, shyly, asked me my age.
“51,” I said.
He beamed.
Great, I thought. “Nick,” I asked, “am I old enough for the discount?”
He smiled politely and shook his head.
“How old do I have to be?”
He smiled and handed me my change.
“65. Have a good day.”
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