Books and covers

Let me preface this blog entry with a fact: my daughter is gorgeous. She's not just pretty, she's REALLY pretty. She's the kind of pretty that, when she walks into a room, people stop talking and look at her. Her hair is long, straight and golden blonde. She has enormous ice blue eyes. Her figure is absolute perfection. She's smart as hell and funny, honest and moral, kind-hearted and disarmingly self-confident but not conceited. I look at her and wonder how this creature came from my lowly DNA.



So, I was not surprised when the cashier in front of us at our local drugstore flirted with her. The check out line was long. People stretched behind us to the photo section. And the cashier started flirting. And flirting. And flirting. Every time my daughter tried to take the bag from his hand, the cashier had something else to say to her. He tried to help her with aa gift card she'd bought. He wanted to be sure she knew the number to call for additional information. People behind us coughed and shuffled. Women gave us the evil eye. Slightly uncomfortable, my daughter laughed and thanked him, took her purchase and moved off to the side to wait for me. The besotted young man continued to look at her and try to engage her in conversation. She turned to talk to me.



At this point I suppose the cashier realized his attempts were not working. And so he returned to the task at hand: checking me out. And not in the male/female way. In the "That'll-be -$12.22" kind of way.



He didn't ask if I knew the pros and cons of the eyeliner I was buying. Didn't try to talk to me about the benefits of my gel pen over a ball point. Didn't try to show me the customer care number on the receipt which, if I called, would enter me into a sweepstake for a $1000 shopping spree. I don't remember him even making eye contact. All he said to me was, "You don't need a bag for that, do you?"



Humbly, I acknowledged that I did not need a bag. And my daughter and I left.



Never has my lack of sex-appeal to a younger man been more poignantly pointed out. I did not look like a bag lady for once. I had make up on and my nails were done. I was even sort of dressed up. No matter to this 25+ guy. "Did you see that guy?" my daughter asked when we left? "And he didn't even give you a bag! What a jerk!"



She noticed.



My descent into oblivion from anyone younger than 45 began a few years ago. I was sitting in a park where multiple tourists asked me repeatedly for directions. They were probably from the north, visiting our Holy City in the South Carolina.... but they all, without exception, called me "Ma'am". Even the old guy with a gray beard. Perhaps that was just when I noticed it.



People treat you differently when you're much older than them. Men treat you differently when they're not sexually attracted to you. Women treat you differently if you're younger or prettier than them.



Have I been guilty of sexism? Beautify-ism? Ageism? Probably. This was an eye opener to me. My Autumn Resolution: try to look beyond youth and looks and gender to the person beyond..... after all- it's what I've always preached. Apparently, my daughter listened.