It was routine. Blake was in line, watching with passing interest as the cashier ran through his items.
After she scanned the last item, she asked, “How old are you?” She had a nervous grin that was contagious.
“Uh, forty-five,” replied Blake. “Why do you ask?”
The cashier let out a sigh of relief. “It’s the easiest way to know if I should give you a senior’s discount.”
“Wait. Do I look like a senior?” asked Blake.
“I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t going to ask.”
“But you’re saying I look old enough to make you wonder,” replied Blake.
The cashier blushed. “I’m lousy at guessing ages.”
Blake shot her a skeptical look. He paid for his items and she handed him a bag.
“Just for curiosity’s sake, what’s the senior’s discount?” asked Blake.
“Fifteen percent,” replied the cashier.
Blake nodded and made a mental note. If he looked that old, the next time he might as well take full advantage.