i’ll never understand women

i should quickly mention the ufc and i are TOTALLY cool…

…so don’t think the title is in reference to her.

no, this has to do with a birthday happy hour i went to tonight. the young lady in question, whether she wants to admit it or not, turns forty-one (41) tonight. born the twenty-fourth of august, in the year of our lord, nineteen-hundred and seventy four. or “MCMLXXIV” in the roman vernacular. and while it was kinda cute when, while still in her thirties (i’ve known her for almost ten years at this point), she would claim to be twenty-nine, to still do it at forty-one is just…well…off. not to mention, no offense to my wife or her husband, she looks damn good for thirty-six, let alone forty-one.

but this isn’t uncommon – while auditing some company paperwork a few years ago, i noticed one of the tattoo artists (no longer working for us, but by his own choice) had the wrong age written down on a bunch of his paperwork. i thought he just sucked at math…but then i noticed it was always accurate on the GUY’S paperwork, just not the females (some of the females were, i’ll add – but while the male’s were 100% the women ran more like 70%). then i figured he was just being flirty. but a couple weeks later i was there when he filled some out for a woman who was, very clearly, in her forties. and it had not been an easy ride to that number for her…he wrote down her birthday on the paperwork and the ASKED HER HER AGE. she said “thirty-eight”, but i looked at the paperwork later and it said she was forty-two.

game. set. match.

i’ve never shied away from my age and doubt i ever will…when i was sixteen i could pass for twenty-two. now at forty-four i can pass for thirty-six. i’m okay with that. but back to last night…

…somehow, i and i’m not quite sure how, she found it more socially acceptable (before a drink was even in hand, i’ll add) to tell any of the staff that she had her fourteen year old child at the age of TWELVE, rather than say she was out of her twenties.

huh?

i’ll take being a quadrigenarian (apparently us forty-somethings don’t have a “genarian” term according to spell check) over being a springer-guest-style parent any day, but maybe that’s just how i was raised…

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