The Wrong Side

So every once in a while you tend to forget how old you are, sometimes deliberately and sometimes you just simply forget because you are really old and age tends to mess with your memory. Just the other day I was talking to my colleagues and they were trying to work out the age differences of those of us hanging around the pantry and I couldn’t be sure of my age. I had to actually do a mental calculation deducting the year I was born against the year we are in only to discover to my horror I was on the wrong side of thirty. Very wrong. Oh my god! I AM OLD! A couple more years and bam I’m on a different scale except this time on the right side of forty. Not much of a consolation that is though.

Some of my colleagues were discussing on buying the lottery and since the numbers we had to pick from were from 1 to 45, we decided to buy everyone’s age as our lucky numbers. I went through the digits and they were like 22, 23, 24, 27 and then it jumped a whole decade plus to 38. The only saving grace from the whole exercise was that there was another number after 38. Again it wasn’t that much of a consolation.

Just when you think it couldn't get any worse, reality check hits you right smack in your face and you are called an uncle. In this part of the world where we live in, the term uncle doesn’t always make you a relative of the person calling you that. Generally, it’s used loosely on someone who is more of an elder as a form of respect.

Now, I’m fine being termed an uncle, don’t get me wrong but I’m not so fine being called an uncle by someone clearly older than myself by a good 25 years! That’s just depressing! My company had organized a sale recently and some UNCLE approached me and started a small talk about how he’s not sure if his son who is in his late teens will like the design and color of the shoe he just picked and all. Since it was a lull period, I decided to be a good salesman by participating in his conversation.

And then he did the unbelievable. He called me UNCLE! He is bloody in his 50’s and he called me an UNCLE! U.N.C.L.E.!!!! ‘Eh uncle the shoes cheap huh, all past season huh.’ *Wink* ‘How often you guys do sales like these huh uncle? ’ *Wink* I had a good idea where the shoe he picked for his son was going to go after he called me that. Right into his mouth, down the esophagus and out of his ass that’s where! And he had this habit of trying to do a cool charming dude act with a wink every now and then when he passed some comment which he thought was smart like ‘cheap because its past season’, ‘shoes are all from china today’, ‘some shoes don’t last but your brand is the most lasting’ ‘my face is crinkled and needs ironing but I have no idea why I called you uncle still.’ Alright he didn’t say the last bit but he is in his 50s and for some reason he felt compelled to address me respectfully as an elder of the clan.

Now nothing thrills me to bits than to be recognized as a leader of a clan which are generally helmed by people in their 80’s or look 80. So, thank you uncle for making my day. I finally get the respect I had hankered for my last 38 years. I am now officially an uncle. I need to go eat some goat’s placenta. Anyone know of a sale going on for that?