That awkward moment. It gets even more frequent as we grow older.
Usually involving a middle-aged divorcee: we ask for her age. “How old do I look?” She ventures. Of course, you are not to offend her, as you want her to give you a lift to the airport- and also your new date’s approval.
So you subtract twenty odd years from the age she actually looks. And that’s when it all starts. Middle-aged ego boosted, you have to sit there listening to a half-hour pseudo-beauty lecture and confession about her “Secret“.
What “Secret”? Can’t she suss out you just lied to her because you feel like your sitting on pins when you’re around her? Or that you need that lift to catch your flight?
“I don’t smoke, don’t drink and am a vegan.”
or “Good skin runs in my family”
or even “I use cold water to shower”.
But if the lady in question is into Facial Yoga or swimming competitions, you’ll want to stick those pins up her eyes.
I have learnt through the years that the best thing to say when stuck in one of these situations is not to lie, or to add ten years to the age she actually looks, to save your head- and precious time.
Now the fat divorcee is driving you to the airport, calling you her newly adopted daughter, and making funny faces on the wheel. Facial Yoga. Oh, no! her eyes are strongly shut! And we’re speeding at 80 mph!
Not only she’s giving you a Facial Yoga lesson, but it appears like you have offered her a drink, because she’s all high, comparing herself to Nicole Kidman.
She’s using phrases like “when I was your age” and boasting about her achievements. You hold your date’s hand tightly as he’s avoiding eye-contact because he’s aware of your discomfort.
“Open your eyes auntie, for God’s sake!”
When you think the nightmare’s over, and you’re just in time to catch your flight back home, she starts searching into her smartphone to try and give you the link to the YouTube Facial Yoga videos. Just what I needed. And she can’t find them.
“Believe me, Facial Yoga will change your life!”
“Will Facial Yoga give me an upgrade to First Class?” You badly want to ask.
As your irritation is burning your cheeks, you can’t resist anymore:
“By the way, how did you get that limp?”
And your date dumps you. Can’t care less, you’ve spotted a tanned hot surfer at the Check-in queue, he’s smiling at you- and he LOOKS TWENTY-FIVE!