Slice 23 out of 31
Dear American Association of Retired Persons:
While I appreciate your kind letter and invitation to membership, I believe you have me confused with my older sister.
Seriously, what the heck???!!!! AARP? I’m NOT retired. I’m not even 50–I’m too young to join your association. My birthday is not for three months, and at that point, I will be 47. Why are you sending me membership cards and soliciting me? No, I don’t want your free messenger bag. It probably comes emblazoned with your letters screaming out that I am card carrying member. No, I’m not ready for retirement. No, I don’t think I’m a qualified candidate. You’ve depressed me with your dual membership cards, your magazine offerings, and your invitation for full benefits.
I am completely flummoxed. When did this happen? When did I become the person of age of AARP mail? I thought I was just a neurotic middle-aged woman. Before I joined that club, I used to think only neurotic middle-aged women got migraines, and now I get migraines. Does that make me a neurotic middle-aged woman? Well, middle age did come, and I had come to terms with that, but now this. AARP, the American Association of Retired Persons, inviting me into their fold–I can have platinum hair, receive platinum benefits, and read articles about aging gracefully.
I’ve never done anything to my hair other than have it cut. No perms–don’t need ’em. No coloring–kind of like I am who I am even with these grays peeking out of the red. Perhaps my age is showing, and the time is right for me to dye my hair, get a convertible, and do something crazy to defy age. Maybe I’ll just continue to act like a middle schooler and defy age that way.
Regardless–AARP you can’t have me yet. But wait, tell me about the discounts. Would I qualify at the young age of 46?
While I appreciate your invitation, I am respectfully declining–at least for now. Please send your correspondence to my older sister–she is old enough to be a card carrying member.
Respectfully yours….in a few years,