When I received an AARP membership offer in the mail last week, it triggered many feelings.
Yes, the brief existential crisis triggered by this reminder of my own mortality and the unstoppable passage of time was frightening.
But the card also sparked a little scene in my head of AARP as a much older person approaching me at a bar.
So here in its absurdity, is that scene put to paper:
Oh hi, AARP, nice to meet you, too.
Whatâs that? Oh, thank you. Yes, Iâll take Dewarâs, neat please.
Tell me, AARP – what was it that drew you over to me?
Is it my job? Yes, I work at a newspaper for a community of retired people, but Iâm not one of them!
Is it that I love Wertherâs Originals and Oreos? Because, yes, I see your point, but I donât think that qualifies me for membership.
Or maybe itâs my love of jazz. Fair enough, I can see how that could mislead you but thatâs really easy to explain … and wait a minute, is that âStormy Weatherâ I hear the band playing?
Oh stop! Iâm way too young for you – by 27 years, in fact.
… But that is one sweet-looking tote bag youâre offering. Maybe I can fudge the numbers a bit and sign up. I mean, you wonât tell – will you? It can be our little secret.
I mean, just think of all the caramel candies I could fit in there. Or how convenient it would be to carry books back from the library with that.
But, no! I see what youâre doing, and Iâm nipping it in the bud right now! I canât join you, AARP – what will my friends think? If they see us together it would be a scandal!
Well, actually, theyâll probably think weâre a perfect pair. After all, my first car was a white â96 Cadillac DeVille, so I guess you could say Iâve been a natural fit for a while. Even now, Iâm still considered the âgrandpaâ of my group of friends.
Sure, theyâll tease me at first, but when Iâm paying 20 percent less at the movies, weâll see who gets the last laugh. I wonder if the discount applies during matinee hours. I like to get in before that mob of hoodlum kids with their pants down halfway to hell.
Kids these days…
Whoa, youâre good AARP. Are you hearing me right now? Iâm not normally like this, I swear!
What, another drink? No Iâm fine, but thanks.
Well, a whiskey sour does sound pretty good. But only if youâre buying. The discountâs good here, right?
But, no, this isnât me. I sold that Cadillac and got a much more age-appropriate Hyundai. Iâm tech-savvy, and I mean beyond just sending an email. Plus, some of the music I listen to – well, it may be a bit too loud for your tastes, and I donât think youâd like all the lyrics.
So Iâm flattered AARP, I really am. But I have to say no.
Whatâs that? Oh donât get like that! Itâs not a âforeverâ no. Because, believe me, if I wasnât 27 years too young, the wild fun weâd be having together … weâd make Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz look tame by comparison.
And Iâll leave it at that. But give me a call in 2040, AARP. Youâll know where to find me.