Getting Carded – Those Were the Days


Thinking back to the days when we had to show our I.D. to get into a club to dance and drink, I, for a moment this morning, while in the early-bird old people line at Costco, was ready to whip out my driver’s license and prove that I am over 60.

When I got to Costco this early a.m., the line went down the sidewalk and across the parking lot in an “S” shape.

Surely some of those people were under 60.

“Is this the old people line?” I asked the woman who appeared to be in last place in the straight line.

“Excuse me!” a woman called from across the driveway. “That’s not the end of the line!”

I crossed the driveway as the woman explained to me that I had to go to the end of the “S.”

“And they don’t open at 8:00 anymore,” she said. “Now the senior hour is from 9 to 10.”

“Well, I might just rethink the whole thing,” I said, glancing at my watch.

It was 8:08.

“And it’s only for seniors who are able to stand in line for two hours!” the woman added as I headed back to my car.

But then the line started to move. People were going in. Costco was opening early after all.

I weaved my way back to the “S” line and stood in the cold, windy shade.

“Go get your jacket,” the man in front of me said. “I will save your place.”

But I didn’t have a jacket to go get. The weather people said it was going to be a hot stinker later, and I didn’t have one in my car.

Five minutes later, I was inside the warehouse. One Costco man had greeted me as I crossed the driveway. Another Costco guy had handed me a wipe to wipe down the shopping cart I had already touched.

A group of Costco guys stood at the doorway as I entered.  We were all masked up.

I made the rounds and bought $400 worth of stuff in 15 minutes. There was no waiting at the check-out line.

Everything had changed since two months ago, the last time I had shopped at Costco. There were plastic partitions for the check-out people, and there were social distancing marks on the floor. Even the receipt guy at the exit door had a plastic partition in front of him.

Everyone was friendly, I think, because it’s hard to read a person’s face when half of it is covered up.

I did get some stink eye looks from some gray-haired folks in the “S” line. Couldn’t they see the gray stripe at my part? Sure, I look like a blonde, and I was the only senior there with long hair, but I’m just 6 weeks away from Medicare age.

I was ready to show my I.D. to prove it.

Sadly, unlike the days of yesteryear, nobody asked.

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