Last week, after reaching my limit for living a house with 2 inconsiderate smokers (long story), I decided to get a taxi up to my Grandmother's house for a change of scenery and some much needed R&R.
Well, giving that Dublin taxi drivers are naturally chatty, I polietly went along with him when he engaged me in casual conversation.
It was mostly standard stuff- the weather, the economy, employment and so forth.
Then, the topic turned to family life.
I explained I was off to see my grandmother and he started talking about his own family.
This is how the conversation went:
DRIVER: *rambling on about his 3 toddlers*....So, d'ya have any children yourself?
ME: Oh, no! Not until I'm least 35!
DRIVER: Ah, that's not far off! A good age, though.
ME: I beg your pardon? what are you insinuating?
DRIVER: You're, what- 30-33 years old?
ME: Um, no? *bewildered*
DRIVER:. No? are you married?
ME: *shocked* No! Of course not!
DRIVER: How old ARE you?
ME: I'll be 21 in April.
DRIVER: *pause* ...Oh.
(Awkward silence)
Admittedly, I wasn't wearing make up at the time and my normally milky complexion was pretty much zombie-rific owing to a bad chest infection but in all honesty, I'm shocked by the lack of tact. I know I'm not as young as I used to be but I never expected to be mistaken for a 30-something.
With my 21st birthday just around the corner (April 15th), I'm not sure if I should be insulted.
Does this mean (on the outside at least) that look old?
I generally feel permanently stuck on 12...