Given the direction to an aisle, we thanked the young man and began to walk away.
“Could I ask you ladies something”?
We stop and turn our attention back to him.
Him: How old do you think I look?
Lauré and I glance at each other. This is a mostly retirement area, and we’ve been asked this question a lot by seniors (a lot!), which can be an uncomfortable moment. We had talked about this weird obsession of age concern just the other day. However, up to now, neither one of us had anyone under the age of 80 pose the question. We must have both looked a bit quizzical, because he repeats his question.
Me: Yes, I’d guess late 20’s as well.
In a kind of surprised but pleased manner, he answers: 29. Everyone always thinks I look much younger.