How I Know I'm Old

So I'm sitting in my summer school class today. With all the drastic budget cuts in the CSU system the history department cancelled all its summer school and I'm having the take an undergraduate, upper division class in the American Studies department to substitute as one of my electives. Me and all the twenty one year olds. The professor is talking about the civil rights movement and the sit ins at the Woolworth's lunch counters by college students. 

Student asks,"What's a Woolworth?"

Professor: "Like a dimestore." 

Student: "A what?"

Professor: "Low budget Target."

Next question: "What's a lunch counter?"

Maybe the engineering majors are in this class for the GE credit?

Then the professor goes on to talk about Bobby Kennedy.

Student: "Was Bobby Kennedy related to JFK?"

How did this person get to be a senior in college?

Then you can hear everyone's cell phone vibrating on the desks all at once and people start checking and text messaging. Apparently all their friends needed to let them know Michael Jackson had died. (The joke here is that the professor and myself were the only ones alive when Thriller was released.)

My phone, of course, remained silent. 

Excuse me while I pluck the gray hairs and botox my wrinkles.