I just had the most surreal experience. The doorbell rang and I dashed to answer it, to find a young man in shirt and tie standing there with a clipboard tucked under his arm. He looked like he was in his early twenties, possibly even a bit younger, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Hi. Can I speak to your mother or father?"
I boggled at him. "Excuse... me?"
"Is your Mom or Dad home?" Obviously misinterpreting my baffled silence, he went on, "Or can you tell me when they'll be back?"
"Um," I said, "I'm the lady of the house."
He took a step back. "Oh, you're kidding. I'm sorry! You just -- I mean, you looked young and -- do people make that mistake with you often?"
"No."
"Er, well, I'm really sorry if I embarrassed you. I'm here on behalf of a local golf course and..."
Cynic that I am, I wondered if he were deliberately using that "Where's your parents" line on women in their thirties in the hopes of making them feel so pleased with themselves they'd buy a golf membership. I am not, however, of the mindset that laments lost youth -- or at least, not yet -- so if that was the intention, it misfired. I informed him politely (but with a certain degree of relish, I do admit) that there were no golfers in this household, nor were there ever likely to be, and he slunk off down the driveway to try at the next house over.
