A woman who appears to be in her fifties or sixties walks up to me at the box office.

Customer: “When are you guys getting [Movie]?”

Me: “Hmm, I haven’t heard of that one. Do you know when it’s coming out?”

Customer: “It was supposed to come out last week. But you guys didn’t get it.”

Me: “Ah. If it was supposed to come out last week and we didn’t get it then, we probably won’t be getting it. We’re a smaller theater, so we only tend to get the big blockbuster movies.”

The customer immediately becomes shocked and agitated.

Customer: “That’s… that’s not what I’m talking about! This is a big, famous movie! When are you guys getting [Movie]?!”

Me: “Well, as I said, if we didn’t get it opening weekend, we likely won’t be getting it.”

Customer: *Now flat-out shrieking* “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! WHEN ARE YOU GETTING [MOVIE]?!”

Me: *Thoroughly confused* “Ma’am, again… if we didn’t get it when it opened, we probably won’t be getting it at all.”

The customer — I’m not joking — gasps and clutches her chest. She then backs out of the front door, continuing to shriek.

Customer: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!”

She then quickly walked away, ranting and raving. Curious, I looked up the movie on my phone. It was some random made-for-Netflix movie that had been out on Netflix for two months already. I don’t know why she expected us to get it when it was never intended to be in theaters anyway.

I have to take an art history class that is required for college. One evening, the professor takes note of the sweatshirt I’m wearing.

Professor: “Is that a Keith Haring shirt?”

Me: “Oh, no, but I guess it does kind of look like one, though.”

Professor: “So, what is the design, then?”

I’m embarrassed as h***.

Me: “It’s Danny Devito in his underwear stuck inside a piece of playground equipment.”

Professor: “Oh, I see.”

It’s a reference to “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.”

I’m a big fan of “RuPaul’s Drag Race.” My mom is a child of the sixties, and I figure she would get a kick out of seeing the challenge where the drag queens perform in a musical where they have to sing and dance as Cher at different stages of her career.

We’re watching together and she seems amused, but it’s sort of like she doesn’t quite get what’s going on. Then, eventually, it clicks…

Mom: “Oh! They’re all men!“

Me: “More or less. Why did you think they were all dressed up as Cher? She’s been a gay icon for fifty years.”

Mom: “Well, I don’t know, honey. Your generation does all kinds of strange things. I’ve just learned to smile and nod and let you do whatever makes you happy.”

When “Canada’s Drag Race” became a thing, Mom particularly enjoyed the episode where the queens had to dress up as Celine Dion.

I’m in line at the post office:

Woman: *To the man at the counter* “Aren’t you guys supposed to wear badges?”

Counterman & Me: *And almost every man in line* “Badges? BADGES? We don’t need no stinking badges!”

I’m not sharing this to make fun of any teenagers; I’m sharing it to comment on how old I felt when this happened.

I volunteer as a Sunday School teacher, and one day, I am chatting with some of the teenage helpers. We are discussing music.

Teen: “I love that song, ‘Footloose.’”

Me: “Me, too. It’s one of my favourite movies. Although, I haven’t seen the remake, and I don’t plan to.”

Teen: “It’s from a movie?!”