A woman’s age used to be her private property. Should any bad-mannered individual have the nerve to ask a lady her age, she was totally within her social rights to either flutter her eyelashes and mutter a blatant lie or simply refuse to answer the question.
Even hard-nosed journalists were told to respect the fact, women had a right not to disclose their age.
Things are changing, but I still have a few friends, who are coy about their age and one, who stands out by remaining “age-less” to the point where even her son didn’t know which birthday, they were celebrating, until circumstances forced her to share her secret.
Initially I was puzzled, but as the years went by and this attractive and vivacious woman remained just that, I realised, it was her way of ramaining youthful and she certainly avoided the, to me, ultimate put-down “you are looking very good - for your age”, which I have hated since it was first presented to me by way of a “compliment” - aged 42!
Personally, I have never had a problem with my age, but being asked does make my toes curl a little, the way you react to a someone slightly over-stepping the line of politeness.
The fact that my birth-date now is being asked for by my mobile provider in the same breath, they ask my post code, does jar a little, but the ultimate cheek came online the other night, from my bank!
I don’t bank online and feel uncomfortable about using my cards to purchase goods on the web. So it was news to me, when at the end of one of these prolonged transaction, when finally I had ticked all the boxes and filled in all the figures, dates and codes, a news message flashed up to say, the company was checking my card with my bank.
Actually, a jolly good security move, I thought.
More questions. One of them for my date of birth.
Hmmm...
My card was refused! Reason: date of birth didn’t match.
I know I’m not good with figures, but my own birth-date, which I have never bothered to lie about, I do know.
Luckily there was a helpline number and the guy at the other end was sympathetic, but couldn’t help. I was in danger of losing the bargain flight, I had been booking, but nothing doing. I would have to go to my bank the next day, bearing passport to prove my age!
Not a happy bunny, having banked with that particular brand and branch for more years than I’m going to admit. So long, in fact, I don’t remember being asked my date of birth...
And therein lies the rub. The bank did not ask my age when I signed up to become a customer. In fact, the polite man at the local branch, told me, that rule ONLY came in a few years ago, in 1991!
So when my age question met with a blank on their records, it registered as a “don’t match” and I paid the price in terms of time and potentially losing a flight.
“But before you introduce an age-related security system, I think you should have contacted your pre-1991 customers and filled in their birth dates,” I suggested.
“Oh, we are going to...”
Ladies, you have been warned. In fact, I suggest you beat them to it. Next time you visit your bank, insist on telling them your age - but beware, you may need your passport to prove it! If you still feel age is your private property, maybe, just maybe, you can impart the information in writing!
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