At the bank on Saturday…

The teller looked at me and said, “Ma’am, can I tell you something?”

Immediately, I thought, Oh no. What did I do? Did I sign in the wrong place? Did I accidentally do something stupid? I knew it couldn’t be none of it. What could it be?

So I nervously replied, “Go ahead.”

He smiled and said, “I just want to tell you that my mom is way younger than you, and she doesn’t even come close to looking as you do. You look way too young. Mesmerizing. You look amazing”

I nearly fell off my chair. At that point, I turned the color of pimentón — red pepper in English. I was shocked, startled, embarrassed, amazed and suddenly aware that the entire bank had stopped what they were doing. Every head seemed to swivel in my direction. Everyone was listening. Everyone was staring. I was like, Huh, wait. Did he? What’s happening?

“Oh!” I said, giggling and blushing. “That’s so sweet. Thank you! I appreciate it.” Trust me, if I were white, I would be bright red right now.

The teller — a young Cuban man in his 20’s — doubled down.

“No, seriously. You look so much younger and beautiful” His face lit up with a smile longer then a fruit tray. I swear, my drooling filled a bucket and then some and he perhaps thought, I was the perfect chocolate flower — if there is such a thing — he ever saw.

“Thank you!” I replied, trying not to melt into the floor.

Then he asked, “Do you do anything special?”

I said, “Yes. I stay out of the sun.”

He nodded and said, “I’ve heard that a lot.”

A few minutes later, I got into the car and I told my friend about the whole exchange. She was absolutely dying laughing. She could not contain herself, bust in a uncontrollably train of laughter vibrating the neighborhood.

Without missing a beat, she asked, “Well… did you ask for his number?”

I looked at her and said, “Girl, I was too busy accepting my complimentary anti-aging award… NO! I am not a pedophile.” My friend nearly fell out of the car laughing, again.

That bank visit started as a routine errand and somehow turned into a public youthfulness testimonial.  I promise not to tell his mother or play that movie again. Well, just a little secret… deep down, I thought it was cute. After all, who doesn’t enjoy a little flattery now and then?

Better yet, I am living proof of the saying, “Black don’t crack!” Needless to say, the story became front-page news at our weekly Sunday brunch. They all wanted to know why I didn’t get his number. I’m a little slow—I haven’t quite caught up with the program yet. What can I say?!