Monday, June 15, 2009

When they think you're sneaking spiked punch...



Ok tell me the truth. How old do you think I look in this picture?


That was taken Saturday night at a graduation party for a family friend. Joe and I were eating cake and trying to decide if he would end up like the group of old men in a circle in the back yard smoking cigars while checking out the (decades younger) waitress. We decided, most likely.

A woman that looked exactly like Bette Midler (but with redder hair) interrupted our laughter to introduce herself. After asking Joe about his wrestling career, Bette turned to me with a smile reminiscent to that of Sadie Ratliff from Big Business and asked:

"And what grade are you in?!"

...

EXCUSE ME??? I just graduated college, thank you very much. This is the face of a wise and (fairly) weathered Bachelor of Science recipient.

I mean, seriously. I could handle Erin's ten year old cousin innocently guessing that I was 15. He's young. But Bette? Straight out of The Real Housewives of Oakland County? And she's not even close to being the first person to think I was in middle or high school.

While we're talking about mistaken identities...

Last Christmas, Steve and I struggled through a travel nightmare trying to get from Boston to Detroit. We had to stay overnight in Cinncinnati because of flight complications. We approached a counter at the Marriott at four in the morning. The woman bowed her head to look at our IDs. Paused. Looked up with a dumb smile and asked:

"Would you like one bed or two, Mr. and Miss F?"

...

EXCUSE ME??? We are siblings, woman! Don't toy with my emotions, it's four in the morning.

Ugh.

This is a time of transition. And in said time of transition, one must exhibit restrained patience in the face of confusion.

...Or just start wearing descriptive sandwich boards to avoid stupid questions.


3 comments:

Nancy said...

so we are at dinner at this super fancy restaurant in jamaica and erin rebecca and i decide to split a bottle of wine. jill asks for a glass and the waiter laughs so loud and says yeah in like 10 years. and just for the record, the drinking age in jamaica is 18.

Don Martelli said...

Hey, don't knock smokin' stogies and checking out waitresses. It's a national pastime of every married man, sorta.

Alissa:Adventurer said...

Oh man that kinda thing happens to me except people always think I am an employee. No matter where I am, kmart, grocery store, library, farm, outer space, mdconalds.

Its not like I go around wearing name tags or work uniforms or something either. People are weird. haha. And I dont think you look that young.