Thursday, February 3, 2011

Don't Discount the Discount

I pulled up to the window.

"Do I get a senior discount?" I asked. When she said 'yes', my day was made.

I was not yet a senior when I was first asked if I wanted the discount. My children were with me and saw the terror on my face. A senior. It has taken me awhile to put on the title and to feel comfy with it.

Since my decrease in income, I find the small amounts I can save as a senior are important. I always ask, "Do you have a senior discount?" That 60 or 70 cents is just a little more gas in the tank or maybe a soda fountain Pepsi once in awhile. I cherish change....the kind that rattles in my pocket.

I have a feeling that more and more people around my age are coming to accept that senior tag. Lack of employment, living on a fixed income, realizing how much each penny, dime and nickle means has taken on a new appreciate of the senior discount.

My parents scraped and saved. Years when the crops didn't produce well, each penny counted. In my Dad's old journals, each piece of change spent was logged. Now I find myself doing the same.

I still feel a little funny asking for a discount, but since I'm here at this age, I might as well do what I can for myself. When I feel a little awkward asking, I remind myself, "Don't discount the discount."

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