My year of being forty is almost over. Maybe because forty is such a milestone, I’ve been more and more aware of the ways that my age – or at least the appearance of my age – is working to my unearned advantage. People call me "sir" more often, even on the phone. In crowds, especially at work, students – who are, yes, half my age – seem to get out of my way a little more readily, especially if I say "excuse me." More than a few times, I’ve (inadvertently) quieted down a teenager at Target or a coffeeshop simply by looking at them. No scowl or anything – just a look.
The other day I went to the Verizon store to see about upgrading my iPhone. I’d received an email saying that I was eligible to switch for free to one of those candy-colored 5c models with more memory than my current phone, so I thought, "Why not?"
A salesman came right up to me when I walked into the store, addressing me as "sir." He seemed inordinately young: if not 18 or 19, then a baby-faced twentysomething. I told him about the emailed offer, and he got right down to business by explaining some of the finer points of the upgrade scheme; checking on the store’s inventory of 5c devices; trying to upsell me on insurance, a new data plan, and a case; and finally looking up my account – at which point he learned that only Shannon’s phone was eligible for the upgrade, not mine.
I was a little bit surprised by this, but I didn’t care too much; my current phone is just fine. Sales Boy, though, was incredibly embarrassed by his error. He blushed, his hands started shaking, he dropped his pen, he stuttered as he apologized for not looking up my lines right away, and he started twisting one of his (many) rings around and around his finger. I’m not sure if he thought I was going to yell at him or what, but I just shrugged it off. No biggie.
As I left the store, I saw my reflection in the window and realized why he might have been so deeply embarrassed (apart of course from making such a dumb error). In my work clothes, I looked old and serious. It was strange to think that this mattered, but it I think did.