Aging Gracefully

Sad, but true, it seems that I'm officially old enough to be flirted with by younger men.  It's happened three times in one week and I think that has sealed the deal for me.  I'm no longer in the age group that I could possibly misconstrue their sweet comments for pick-up lines.  I'm old enough that they feel safe.  They can say whatever they want to say because it's cute and they're doing it to make an old lady feel good. 

Maybe it's my punishment for all of the years I spoke sweetly and harmlessly (I thought) to older men.  Did I make them feel the same way this guy made me feel today?  Or the way the other boy made me feel last week?  Or the waiter yesterday?  If it's happened three times in one week, it's official, isn't it?  I've crossed into a new group.  So does that mean I should stop speaking that way to older men?  I used to think an older man might have enjoyed hearing that I liked his super white hair.  Or his bow tie.  That's why I said it. But now I see that it might just make him feel sad and old, like it made me feel today when the 23-year old said that he liked my shoes.

Actually, he didn't really say that he liked my shoes.  He said,  "Nice shoes," to which I replied, "Are you teasing me?"  I really thought he might be joking because when I put them on this morning I had questioned them myself.  But he answered, "No. Really.  I think it's cool that you're wearing high heels on your bike."  Now, I don't think a 30-year old would say that to another 30-year old.  And I don't think it would be exchanged between 46-year olds either. But, a 23-year old to a 46-year old seems like a big enough gap (in addition to the fact that I could be his mother) to give him a certain safety net from misinterpretation.

I understand that the best thing would be to accept the compliments and feel flattered that a young man took the time to say anything to an old(er) lady riding past on her bike, right?  And I should be happy that a waiter even wants to call me "honey."  Unfortunately, it's still a little hard to swallow.  Am I going to continue to fight the fact that I'm aging or am I going to adopt the healthy attitude of Donald, my 81-year old neighbor?  He thinks it's cool to be old and youthful.  He told me that he's fallen three times in the past week.  Most recently, he was standing on the bus for 15 minutes and felt fine, but then he got off and fell.  I told him that a handsome (there I go again) 81-year old man deserves a seat on the bus and he said with a shy smile, "Well now, it hardly seems fair to accept a seat offered by a pretty young girl when I'm on my way to the gym for a workout!" 

Fortunately, I have 35 more years to practice being a little more like Donald.   And hopefully instead of shyly refusing an offered seat on the bus, I'll be gracefully accepting a compliment on my bike.