I feel old. Really, I do.

Two things happened this weekend in the span of a few hours that made me feel old:

First, my wife told me I was too old to wear the t-shirts I was looking at getting. One was a Marvel Super-Heroes white tee with old-school-style faces of a bunch of characters lined up in rows. She was less down on a gray tee with the logo of The Strokes on it, but I could tell she wasn't too thrilled about that one, either.

I'll give you that Marvel t-shirt--maybe--but damn it, I am NOT too old to wear a simple, non-tie-dyed piece of clothing advertising a rock band. I bought it. And I'm gonna wear it.

Later, at the grocery store, ahead of us in the checkout line was a petite, youngish woman buying a bunch of stuff. My wife went to the ladies' room while I waited with our own haul. At this point, the cashier finished ringing her up and discovered her card was coming up declined. I didn't hear the details, but she said something about leaving her bank card at home and could she do something or other.

Yeah, replied the cashier, but the manager would have to come over and actually do it. She thanked him and then turned to me and said, clearly embarrassed, "I'm SO sorry, sir."

"Hey, no problem," I told her, attempting to look as casual as possible. "Stuff happens." I wanted to make her feel it was no big deal, as she was clearly mortified by whatever was going on.

Suddenly it hit me. SIR? "I'm so sorry, SIR?" I wasn't THAT much older than she was...was I? She had to have been at least early to mid 20s, and--hmm, well, I was a few years older, but not old enough to be called SIR. I mean, I appreciate the respect and all, and maybe she just meant it in a generic sense, not in a "I'd better apologize before this grumpy old man explodes here in the line," sense.

Or maybe I AM old.