I have a sister, she was recently married, who is 24. I am 36. The other night I ran over to Trader Joe’s to get a few things, and the guy checking me out (ringing up my groceries, checking me out, and certainly not checking me out checking me out, because, well, keep reading. . . ) says, "Do you have a daughter named Ashley?"
"Um, I have a sister named Ashley," I told him.
"Oh," he says, "did she just get married?"
I told him she did and we talked about names for a minute until we realized that we were talking about different Ashleys, though he and my sister went to the same school and were only a year apart.
I went to that school, too, and told him when I graduated.
He looked me right in the eye and made a surprised face, "NO WAY!! You don’t look that old!" he said. I didn’t point out that he started the conversation assuming that I was at least ten years older than that. He was trying to be nice and I appreciated it.
And, I’ll never go in his line again as long as I live (which, you know, given my advanced age may not be so long anyway).
Back later with something pretty.