Chapter 16: TBD
Some form of this post will eventually be included in Living with People I Want to Punch in the Throat. It is unedited and in rough draft form.
Well, it’s finally happened. I finally feel old. It didn’t happen when I bought Vans with some kind of cloud-cushion technology so my feet wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t when “80s Girl” was a legit costume you could buy at Spirit Halloween. It wasn’t when low-rise jeans came around again. It wasn’t when the “oldies” radio station started playing the hits from my high school years. It wasn’t even when I heard those same bangers piped into my local grocery store.
Nope. I accepted all these harbingers of old-age without too much drama. Instead, it was the day I decided to buy perfume that I felt old as fuck.
Let me explain. When I was a teenager and I needed a go-to Christmas gift for either of my parents, I bought them perfume or cologne. The first couple of years that I bought them their signature scents, I would have to trek to a fancy store at the mall and a well-dressed lady at a gleaming glass counter would help me make my purchase. In those days, if I spent enough I could get a “free” overnight bag for my mom or a leather satchel for my dad.
One year, I noticed that my parents’ favorite toilet waters were not prominently displayed in the glass cabinet.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to People I Want to Punch in the Throat to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.