Crown of Wisdom?

My current pet peeve is with people who point out the obvious and do so without an ounce of class. As I near the glorious age of thirty, which by the way has been proven scientifically as women's sexual peak, I have become even more tight-lipped about my age around people rude enough to ask. Why? It isn't just because I refuse to be classified in society's norms of age, but because I sport, according to Christians; what is known as the "crown of wisdom" or otherwise known as *gasp* grey hair. And I wear it undyed! *DOUBLE GASP!!*

I have been classified by my genetics as Black Irish, thus I have been blessed or cursed by graying which started at the lovely age of 14. I still have my dark locks, but they have over the years been replaced by sprinklings of gray.....Actually shockingly, bright white streaks. Forget the gray!

At work where I deal with hundreds of clients a week, I have dealt with the age question constantly because according to societal norms, women who are under the age of 50 don't dare walk in public with undyed gray/white hair. Since I don't look like a 50 year old, people usually ask their brazen questions like the following examples. (Note: Some of these people I have never met before!):

1. Strange man leans over the counter close to my face and whispers: "Holy SHIT! Did you know your hair is gray? Like GRAY! You have unlucky genetics! And you don't dye it? JUST HOW OLD ARE YOU????" My response is usually along the lines that I don't tell strange men my age and that just how rude are you?

2. Woman comes to counter and loudly announces, "My husband and I were debating for the past hour as to how old you are. I was thinking that you are older than forty as it is impossible for anyone younger to have that much gray. My husband thinks that you may possibly be younger as your face doesn't look older than 17 years. How old are you?"
My thought....Goodness, I have kept this couple entertained for an hour by my hair. How insane is that? I of course, respond cryptically by saying that I had been married and divorced. That is the only information I provide. The arguing couple pestered me for the next two hours trying to get my age afterwards. I naturally refused to stoop and play along with their stupid game. They actually left angry at me cause I wouldn't divulge.

3. Couple of young girls walk to the counter and start the conversation of with: "WOW, you look not older than our mothers, but you have more gray hair than them!" Giggles erupt from the tweens, proceeded by "We are never going to look like that, we are going to dye our hair til we are ninety."
Yes, girls you do that. Because at ninety, your sagging boobs tied into your belts, varicose veins, wrinkles, sunken eyes, crippled bodies, diapers, and jowls down to your knees will more than likely give your age away, even though you'll probably be still obsessed with dying your hair blue. I struggled and failed by not looking with disgust, at the wet-behind-the-ears munchkins.

4. Man comes to counter. "My buddies and I were debating to whether or not you were our age. We started making bets. Your gray hair is causing problems with us pin-pointing your age. If you won't tell us, will you give us your driver's license to look at please? I figure you are in your thirties and very available to date with an ass like yours. There is no way you can be in your forties with a body like yours. By the way, your boobs are lovely."
Lovely, sentences with ass, body and boobs put side by side. This guy was getting nothing from me. I thought. He was promptly turn aside with a "Leave my body out of this please. Please, don't smack my ass again. No, you may not see my license. Sorry there is a bet going on, but I cannot help you. I'll be whatever age you want me to be, but I am not available to date. " I note that this same man pestered me for six months for my age and he is still in the dark.

5. Friend of the family asks: "You can't be younger than your husband, you are way too gray for that. Did you rob the cradle?" Nasty, nasty woman. Yes, my husband is younger, but at least he won't be worrying about performance issues for a long time like your husband currently. (I didn't say this aloud, but I certainly thought it!). I did respond saying that at least a younger husband was easier to train. Which is certainly not true; training is a bloody waste of time. I'd rather train the dog first then to tackle a husband.

6. Mother-inlaw comes over for dinner bitching about just how ugly gray hair is and that she spends 120 dollars every two weeks to hide her roots. Folks, I have seen her roots and I swear to you that there is no gray follicles to be seen. I hate these conversations because they occur at every visit and she stares at my hair the whole time she is complaining. Everytime I tell her that her head of glorious hair looks fine; she ignores every other word that I say afterwards. I am under the impression that once a person implies that their own or someone else's gray hair is not the vile villain of the world, that one cannot have anything else intelligent to say?

These are only a few of countless, bizarre conversations or rather lack of conversations that I have had with people in regards to my age/hair. I would like to point out to all the shallow people out there in the world that are insistent on making other people's lives miserable, that yes, one day you will get old, very very old. And no matter what crown of wisdom you are sporting, you won't be wise at all, but as ignorant as the day you were born and with less manners that your mother supposedly taught you.