Sorry, sir.

For lunch today, I headed off to McDonalds for a quick bite. I brought the car in to work today, but decided to walk on over, mainly because I wanted to take a long time during the lunch hour. Walking over and back manages to kill many minutes.

I had the Crispy Buffalo Chicken sandiwch a few weeks back, and I thought that those new toasted deli sandwiches were pretty good. I was about to order the same, but decided to try somethign different. Today I had that Beef ‘n Provolone sandwich. Holy crap, that must be the best sandwich I’ve ever had at a McDonalds. I kept thinking in my mind, “I’m going to have an orgasm eating this thing.” Considering the subsequent mess if that happened, I decided against it.

Anyway, on the way back, I was slowly catching up to this group of high schoolers. They were all decked out in their high school uniforms, holding their large plastic cups of leftover pop, and laughing it up. I believe the topic of conversation was whether one of the co-ed group wanted to be a “man hole” or a “man whore”.

They were walking slowly, occupying the whole sidewalk. I slowed down my pace so that I wouldn’t have to deal with them, but they were just too damn slow. I returned to my normal pace and made a bid to pass them as they crossed a driveway. I guess I wasn’t walking fast enough because they made it across before I could fully pass. That’s when I just thought, “screw it.” I sped up my pace and said “excuse me”. On of the group slowly turned around and said, “oh, sorry sir” and let me pass. One of the others had to tell the girl out in front to “look out” but in the end I just motored my way past them in the snow.

It’s a simple story, with no big morals or life lessons, but it makes me wonder. It’s definitely not the first time I’ve been referred to as “sir” outside of a fast food, or service scenario. It’s not the first time I’ve bitched about feeling old and talking about “those damn teenagers.” The frequency of it all is making me come to one realization.

I’m going to be a wretched old fart when I grow old. It’s inevitable.

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