I get carded for soda, you know, when I go to the supermarket. I mean, they card me for everything. You know, I can't even get through a hand of black jack without getting carded, like, five times.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
On my 50th birthday in 2005, my discount-wielding AARP card came in the mail. I hurled it in the trash, put on something fabulous, and had a decadent meal. Just the thought of putting it in my wallet felt like a concession.
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