I walked into the same bank I had been using for 17 years to make a deposit.  I’m not sure, but I think I was wearing khaki slacks and a yellow polo shirt.  I think I looked fine.  So there I am, minding my own business, when one of the ladies sitting at a desk nearby asked, “Excuse me, Mr. Owen, we have a new service you may be interested in.  However, I have to ask you a personal question first.”  Before I could blurt out, “How do I stay so young looking? Primarily through exercise and good genetics,” she blurted out “Are you over 55?”

Wrinkles instantly popped out on my face, and age spots suddenly covered every exposed inch of my body. I feebly replied, “Yes, why?”

“We have a new service for SENIORS,” she said.  Suddenly I felt like she had screamed the word, so that all the bubble gum popping tellers could point and stare.  I knew for certain that the news anchor at the TV station 30 miles away stopped to take note, (Bob is older than dirt.)  Actually, no one seemed to notice, but me.

“It’s called Advantage 55,” she explained, “and it can save you money.”  As she talked about the service, I liked it.  No charges on writing checks, no minimum deposit, and there were other benefits.

So, my deflated ego began to feel a bit better thinking we would save a few pennies here and there on our checking account.  I signed up for the service, the bank ordered my new checks, and I walked home feeling good about the bank and how nice the lady was to explain this marvelous service.

A week later, my new checks arrived.  I always check to make sure the name, address, and phone number are listed correctly.  My attention was drawn to two  words printed in script letters near the signature line.  “Advantage 55.”  My gosh, it’s bad enough I look old enough to be questioned.  They even have to STAMP it on my checkbook.  The letters and numbers might as well have been four feet tall.

However, the next day, I met the most intelligent young lady at Walmart.  I wrote a check for merchandise, and she asked what those two little words on my check meant.  “Oh that’s a special bank service for seniors,” I told her.  “Well, sir, I’ll need some identification,” she smiled.  “You couldn’t be a senior.  You look too young.”

I tried to buy her a car, but the manager wouldn’t let her accept gifts.