Never guess a woman’s age!

On Tuesday, at the end of my ski day, I’m riding a small chairlift with what appears to be a kid (small height, bright colored clothing).

After exchanging a few words about our day out, the kid asks me where I live, how long I’ve there, etc. The small person has a strange accent… I answer: “I’ve lived in Park City for 35 years, that dates me a bit!”

My fellow passenger goes: “How old are you?” I respond: “I’m 72, that’s old!” I hear back: “No, that’s not, guess what my age is?”

Then, I make the mistake I should know not to make, but I can’t quite resist and goes: “Let me think… Twelve years old?” The person corrects me with: “I’m 50.”

I try to salvage the exchange: “I guess I made you quite a compliment!” She (because I’ve established that by now) says: “Don’t worry, the last time someone guessed my age, they told me I was eight!”