I look like I’m 14. I admit, I exaggerate a lot of things but this, my friends, is actually true. I am sure that in ten years I will enjoy having a baby face that makes me look ten years younger but right now it is very annoying and is quite embarrassing sometimes. I cannot wait for the day when I can grow a beard and actually look my age, or at least look like an adult.

Recently, I was in a store downtown buying a gift for my mother. It was snowing and cold so I was bundled up in my rugby jacket, hat and mittens. I walked in the store and asked the woman for help because, frankly, I have never ever ever been shopping in the woman’s department and practically RUN when I have to pass through it for any reason. If I ever had to get a bra or something I generally ordered it online thus eliminating the need for me to go to the dreaded lingerie section. The woman helping me picked out a few things my mom might like and I chose a bright pink vest. When checking out I handed her my credit card (which still had my old name on it). The woman said, “Who’s Mallory? Oh, that must be your mother. Did she send you in here to pick something out for her?!” UGH. “No,” I said in my best girl voice, looking down and shaking my head, “I am Mallory”. She quickly said, “Oh, you look so young, I had no idea, I’m sorry”. She clearly thought I was a young boy shopping for my mother with her credit card. She even thought my mom accompanied me to the store and was waiting outside for me to be a big boy and pick out a gift. Embarrassing.

It happened again a few days ago. This time I was headed into the Mall of America (Minnesota’s pride and joy) for some shopping and dinner on a Friday afternoon. There’s this rule at MOA that says that if you are under the age of 16 you have to be accompanied by an adult. This is a good rule, I think. As I was walking into the mall, I saw a line of youths waiting to show their IDs to the cop as well as a bunch of them sitting and waiting (presumably) for their adult chaperons to arrive. I quickly cut left in order to avoid running into the mess of people and sneak around them not even thinking I might be misread as a prepubescent boy. Well, it happened and a police officer hustled to catch up and intercepted me a few feet in the door. She said, “Hi my name is officer blah blah blah from the Minneapolis police department. You have to be 16 in order to enter the mall unaccompanied at this time. How old are you?” The look on my face must have been one of extreme shock because as soon as I answered, “I’m 24-years-old, lady”, she was already apologizing and walking the other way. I seriously didn’t mean to be rude but I’m just fed up with adults speaking to me as if I am a child. The patronizing tone of voice is so familiar and so disgusting. Youths shouldn’t even have to endure being spoken to that way.

You’re right, this kind of stuff is sometimes funny. You all by now probably know that I love a good story but this is truly one thing that gets on my nerves. I think it is because I have worked really hard to get to where I am intellectually and emotionally and know I have the wisdom of somebody far beyond my years…an old soul, I am told. Putting that much effort into something and having people dismiss you for a youngster is disheartening. Hopefully I won’t have to deal with this for much longer. If you have any suggestions on what I can do to make myself look older by all means, share!

Related posts:

1. The Fifth Column: Man Voice
2. The Fifth Column: Mama Bear
3. The Fifth Column: Bathroom Culture*
4. The Fifth Column: The Dreaded Period
5. Where Pete Wentz (And You) Can Shop Instead of Going To Target