So I've never considered myself vain.
I've never been all that concerned with my looks, no more, I dare say, than any girl.
I've never been obsessed with clothes or makeup, although admittedly as I get older, I want to look better.
Ah, there's that word, younger.
I've always been told I look younger than my age.
5 decades + 4 more years.
ALMOST 5 more years, in just a couple of months.
My mom doesn't look her age (39). (Thanks, Jack Benny!)
So I sort of always expected to look younger than my chronological years.
Yesterday I went shopping at Nordstrom Rack, in Wayne, NJ. It was the pre-grand-opening grand opening, by invitation only. I was the "plus 1" for my girlfriend. We went inside, picked out a few things to try on and got on line to use the dressing room (it was crowded!).
They took me in first and the girl told me she'd put my friend in the room across and catty-corner from me.
Later on, after champagne and mini appetizers, we bought our stuff and went to the Bahama Breeze Island Grille for dinner.
As we were walking in, my "friend" told me that the girl who brought her into the dressing room told her she was putting her across from her - wait for it - MOTHER!
The only reason I didn't go postal and/or jump in front of a moving vehicle in the parking lot is because my "friend" really does look a LOT younger than her 37 years. In fact, she barely looks 20. So I guess even if I looked 45, I could have been her mother.
Good thing you don't tip the dressing room attendants. THAT one would be very, very, VERY poor.