Discounted

As a male ages, he begins to note the discounts that are often available to "senior citizens".  He is not sure that he wants to take advantage of these . . . as he will have to reveal his true age, and say to the cute blonde behind the counter at Hertz car rental:  "Can't you see that I am past my prime and have earned a discount, if not your undying respect and admiration?" 

Older men who don't care, however, can often produce their AARP card or Driver's License with the aplomb and panache of a quick-draw artist pulling a Colt-45 from a holster.  "How about them apples?" he might say as he slaps the card on the counter at Lowe's and demands an additional 5% off.  Or he might tell the pimply-faced punk at Applebees:  "I'm only going to say this once, so listen up!  I've got a senior citizens discount coupon in my pocket, but don't make me use it, punk.  Just bring me a steak, take 20% off the total, and there will be no trouble!"

To the older man, a discount is like having an Ace up the sleeve.  He's playing poker with society but he knows most people aren't going to call his bluff.  But if they do, good Lord he's going to show his cards and take the pot.  He would prefer, however, if the managers and retail outlets would just fold and say, "Yeah, we can tell you are fifty-five and we don't need to see your ID.  Just take the package of pull-up, extra absorbent underpants and be on your way.  We know these aren't for you and we're not going to ask questions."

The older man can, of course, be embarrassed by his age.  And there are times when he's not going to call attention to a discount.  If a single oldster is standing in a long line at Steinmart, for example, he's not going to call attention to his age if a woman has just asked for his phone number.  He's going to say something like, "Yeah, Friday night is open on my calendar and I drive a Lexus with a fold down back seat."  Under no circumstances will he tell the truth and say, "I'm sorry, but Friday doesn't work for me.  That's when I do my laundry at the retirement village--you can't believe how difficult it is to reserve a washing machine for a soft-spin cycle!--and my shuffleboard team needs me.  But perhaps we could get together on Saturday to discuss Super Poly-Grip.  And I can get you a discount at CVS in case you need a refill of your hormone-replacement pills."

Most older men chose their spots when requesting a discount, but you can bet they will always want one at the hardware store.  When a man can save ten cents on a handfull of wing-nuts and a couple of 2 3/8 inch bolts, he's going to take it.  And if he can get a couple of car keys cut (he's lost his other ones and can't find them anywhere) he's going to toss those into the mix also and maybe replace the cracked toilet seat, too.

Discounts do vary, of course.  And they should.  A fifty-five year old male should never get the same percentage of discount as, say, a man who is a hundred and seven and walks on a peg leg while wearing an eye patch.  Retired pirates deserve more respect and there should be more barbers willing to trim their beards or tweeze the birdnests from their ears.  Retired pirates should never have to show ID, not even for beer or muskatoon purchases.  They've earned their rewards, and when they die, we can bury them at sea for little to no cost.

Naturally, older men would rather be younger men.  But as they age, they do feel that the discounts they enjoy somewhat make up for the fact that they frequently soil themselves if they laugh too hard.  But if they are married, their wives more than make up the difference.