I may be Mrs. Robinson…
I made my way to the front of the grocery store line today, where the cliche high school aged boy was waiting at the register. He had bed head, braces and just enough acne to make him a little shy but overall a very cute kid.
He started scanning my groceries without asking to swipe my rewards card, so after a few minutes I asked him if he wanted my number.
He looked at me horrified, laughed nervously, turned a burnt red color and said, “Not really ma’am, I’m a little young for you.”
Clearly I was talking about the card! Clearly I have children who aren’t much younger than you! Clearly I want to tell your mother you were rude to an elder!
I wanted to say he couldn’t keep up with me anyway, but that seemed a little too Mrs. Robinson for a lazy Sunday afternoon shopping trip.
And I really didn’t have the time or patience to explain who Mrs. Robinson is to him.